A Taste of Heat
by Trynia Merin
Summary: VxB 3 yr gettogether. When Vegeta's training is interrupted by Bulma's attempts to become Vice President of Capsule both have mutual needs they satisfy. Can they take their 'passion kind of thing' and have a decent relationship for the sake of Trunks?
1. Flashback to 2 years before

**A Taste of Heat**

_**Flashback to those First Days**_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z. Toriyama does. I don't get paid for this, and the only thing that's mine are the plot ideas here. It means no harm to a great series!__I know that you've been enjoying this, and I suddenly had the urge to write a prequel to the events in chapter 1. It's a bit on the dark side, but it answers some questions as to why Vegeta's so moody and unpredictable. Hope you enjoy this till I get more written for the next chapter. Thanks to pitkat, heiress, bulma and all you other wonderful reviewers that make this possible!

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_Sometimes Bulma lately would look at Baby Trunks and wonder just how fate had tossed her into the path of the Saiyan Prince. It seemed so incredible how quickly things had happened in the past two years. Now she was a mother and mate of the second most powerful warrior on Earth._

_Rocking her baby boy, she sat down in the rocking chair and lifted her blouse to let her son suckle. Vegeta was away on his training mission, having left the night before. Memories spun in her mind, tumbling down the slope of a year or so before when she had far different priorities and concerns..._

_**Almost two years ago...**_

Shortly after she invited Vegeta to live with them after they had been transported back from Namek she wished she had gone back in time and shot herself for being so foolish. She often didn't see him creeping through the laboratory. A year had sped by almost like nothing into a routine involving full immersion in training. Like a diver he only surfaced for food and the occasional round of training bots. Bulma couldn't believe her father's tremulous admission that the Prince had demanded a gravity chamber like a spoiled brat.

Her parents advised her not to piss him off. It was her fault for inviting him and the Namekians to stay anyhow. While they ate nothing he consumed enough to feed a family of four daily. Thankfully he ate most meals in his bungalow adjoining the chamber. Yamucha uneasily kept a vigil day in and out. They were thankful the baseball player was staying with them in case Vegeta got out of line. He still had his room up the hall from Bulma's. Breakfast consisted of Yamucha wandering down in his sweat pants after a bleary-eyed Bulma and Puar on his shoulders.

"Another day, another pot of java," Bulma yawned, plunking into the chair.

"I'll get it," Yamucha mumbled, scrubbing sleep out of his eyes. She was glad to have him around because the Prince drove them both crazy with what he'd do next. Not that he HAD attacked either one of them. Rather he kept his business between her father and himself.

"Thanks Yami," she yawned, feeling a strange feeling creep down her spine. Sometimes she felt as if she was being watched. It caused her hair to stand up on end.

"Cream and sugar Babe?" Yamucha asked. Bulma nodded. He returned with two steaming mugs of coffee. Both youths slammed down their mugs before hearing Mrs. Briefs light footsteps on the tile. They buried their weariness in the quick buzz that ran over both of them. Puar squeaked with joy at the sounds of eggs being cracked into a pan, followed by sizzling bacon and pancake mix.

"Another late night, dears?" she asked.

"Mmm hmm," Bulma nodded. Yamucha yawned, spreading his arms out to their full extent.

"You bet, Ma'am," he nodded. "You're looking as lovely as ever."

"You kidder! You KNOW I'm a married woman!" she teased, giving his arm a smack. Yamucha rose to help pull down plates and set the table while Bulma wearily grabbed the plates of breakfast from her mother.

As Yamucha moved past her to get the syrup he felt a hand pinching his ass. "YIKES!" he yelped, almost dropping the bottle.

"Oh dear me, was that my hand?" she teased.

"You know I'm already spoken for," Yamucha laughed and blushed.

"Mother!" Bulma yelped, as he gave an awkward chuckle. He sat down; grabbing silverware eagerly while Bulma laid his plate with pancakes and sausage. Dr. Briefs shuffled in minutes later, wiping weariness from red rimmed eyes.

"Another late night huh? That little alien keeping you burning the midnight oil?" asked Yamucha in concern.

"Yep, but at least he's keeping to himself," said Dr. Briefs. He pecked his wife on the cheek, then slid behind the table and plopped into the chair.

"I swear he's driving you insane! Why can't you just tell him no?" Bulma demanded.

"Dear, with all due respect it's your fault that you got us into this. So unless you'd like to deal with his Whyness, I'd suggest you assist me or else not complain, Princess?" asked her father as patiently as he could.

"I'll tell him all right," said Bulma.

"Who's going to take his breakfast?" asked Mrs. Briefs. "I of course wouldn't mind."

"I'll do it," Yamucha offered, getting up.

"Thank you, dearie," said Mrs. Briefs handing him a tray. Yamucha strode out of the kitchen carrying a tray heavily piled with food. Bulma watched the sway of his backside as he departed, shaking her head.

"I didn't realize it would be like this Dad," she apologized. "You could have asked me for help."

"It's not THAT bad. He has pushed me to develop the training systems far quicker then I would have accomplished on my own," Dr. Briefs said, peering at his breakfast his wife set before him.

"Well someone should tell him to back off. Yamucha's here, and I'm sure Vegeta wouldn't risk messing with him or else the other Z fighters would gang up on him," Bulma huffed. "Besides, I can handle that spoiled brat."

"Are you sure? He's very dangerous," said Dr. Briefs.

"He's just a spoiled kid. I think if someone stood up to him, he'd back down. He hasn't blown any of us up yet," Bulma said. "And if he does, Yamucha would give him a taste of his wolf's fang fist."

"I'm not altogether sure even your boyfriend could stand up to him," said Dr. Briefs.

"He's not THAT bad," said Mrs. Briefs. "He's just misunderstood the poor dear."

Both father and daughter stared at her as if she'd sprouted a second head. Incredulously they shook their heads and sighed. Just what perceptions she had of Vegeta baffled them. OF all of them Vegeta never spoke a cross word to her. Perhaps he was just trying to keep from getting his ass pinched.

Later that day, Bulma shoed her father out of his lab, and took her place behind the lab bench. Arrayed in all their gory detail were the bots Vegeta had summarily destroyed the day before. Bulma heaved in a sigh, picking up her father's tools to dive in.

"Damn pain in the ass Prince," she mumbled, prodding the messes with a screwdriver. "These are going to have to totally be rebuilt!"

How one alien could cause such wholesale destruction amazed and horrified her. He was arguably the second strongest fighter on the planet. With Goku off training with Piccolo and Gohan, that left only Yamucha to rely on if Vegeta got out of control. Despite her confidence in her desert bandit, she knew in her heart he stood an ice cube's chance in hell of standing up to the Prince.

"Where is the old fool?" someone snorted, causing Bulma to yelp. The tools clattered to the floor, and she felt hot breath fanning her neck.

"He's taking a break. You've been pushing him too hard. So I figured I'd give him a hand, no thanks to you, your Whyness," Bulma said, not turning around. Trying to press her legs together so her knees didn't knock together, Bulma tightened her grip on the table. Images of that day on Namek rushed back to her.

"So the woman thought she'd come to her old man's rescue ne?" Vegeta snickered. "Not MUCH of an improvement. Just have them ready by lunchtime."

"Vegeta, we're not indestructible!" she gritted, sensing him now only a foot behind her. Body warmth and energy crackled from his body to hers.

"So, what do I care if you're weaklings? Just DO it," he snorted.

"Do it yourself," she mumbled.

"What was that?" Vegeta asked, glaring acidly into her blue eyes.

"I said, if you want it why don't YOU do it?" Bulma said, wondering if she'd signed her death warrant.

"You presume to order me about, woman? Don't make me laugh," Vegeta snorted.

"Yeah, wanna make something of it?" Bulma asked, spinning around to face him. In blue spandex that was slightly worn, and a patched armored breastplate he glared at her.

"Humph, do you forget who your better is?" he asked.

"I could care less. Just leave me alone if you want this done. Standing here watching me isn't gonna make it go faster unless you soil your damn gloves helping me," she glared at him.

"Me, reduced to doing scut work? No that's YOUR job, female," Vegeta laughed.

"Then bugger off and let me get to it! OR else shut up!" Bulma snapped.

"Heh, you're a feisty one," he smirked, the corner of his mouth turning up.

"So what? Just get lost before I lose my temper, your majesty! I'm serious now!"

"Are you? Remember your place!"

"It's here, and yours is in there, so BEAT IT!" she yelled. "I'm SICK of you hounding my father. Just WHO do you think you are?"

"Must I remind..."

"Yeah I know you're the Prince of all Saiyans. Big fricking whoop! Sometimes I think I should shoot myself for inviting your ungrateful ASS to live here! You have no right treating my father like that when he's only doing you a favor!"

"You should watch your tongue, woman!" Vegeta glared at her.

"Or WHAT?" Bulma glared at him.

"Or you could end up regretting your words," Vegeta growled, hand flashing out to grasp her neck.

"Go ahead, kill me," Bulma stammered, steadying her voice. "Prove you're a badass prince. Kill me!"

"You... are pissing me off, woman. Do you enjoy staring DEATH in the face?"

"Not when it's yours. So are you going to do it, or not?" Bulma asked, looking up at him as he brought his face within just inches for hers. "Are you Saiyan enough to kill a defenseless woman?"

"Shut up," Vegeta snapped. "Don't MAKE me kill you."

"Why aren't you?" she asked, feeling his hold tightening even further.

"Aren't you scared of me?"

"I'd be... stupid not to be, but if you kill me, you'll never defeat Goku," she croaked.

"Be glad I'm in a generous mood. You're not worth the effort," Vegeta mumbled, releasing her. She slid to the floor, shaking. But his hand caught her arm to steady her.

"Is that so?" she asked, feeling the pressure of his glove closing viselike on her arm. "Or something else?"

"Don't push your luck, woman," Vegeta breathed, tugging her close so she landed against his chest. "You shouldn't try and press my buttons. You won't like the result."

"You do the same thing to us, so what difference does it make?" Bulma said, sticking out her chin defiantly. She wondered why chills ran down her spine when Vegeta pressed her between the lab counter and his body.

"You really are dancing with the devil. Aren't you the least bit concerned I might kill you at any moment?"

"I'd be lying if I said no," Bulma whispered, sensing that he really wouldn't kill her because of that gleam of excitement in his eyes.

"What sort of woman are you? Are you insane, or braver then I thought?" Vegeta clicked his tongue.

"I want you... to back away from me," Bulma said shakily. "Right now, please."

"Are you scared now?" Vegeta snickered.

"Vegeta, your Majesty, please let me go," Bulma asked again.

"And what will you do if I don't?" Vegeta laughed, grabbing her upper arms instead of her neck.

"I'll scream," Bulma whispered, pressing her hands against his chest. It was like trying to move a bolder but she pushed as hard as she could. Surprisingly Vegeta's hip was turned to one side, and the evidence of any erection was not being pushed into her groin. Rather one knee was forwards with his hip pinning her, not his pelvis.

"Such a fragile foolish creature, in such a repulsive body. Amazing that your spirit burns so brightly so close to your own death," Vegeta breathed.

"Vegeta, please just let me go," Bulma stammered, a wave of fear passing through her.

"You ARE frightened," Vegeta said, his breath hitting her neck. "Very interesting."

"Let me GO!" Bulma demanded, her voice shaky but loud.

"I don't think I will," he laughed.

"Vegeta... you ARE scaring me, just... knock it off... I..." she gasped.

"What precisely do you fear, woman?" he asked, his gloved hands still around her arms but not constricting tightly enough to bruise.Releasing one arm he tipped her chin back to gaze at her neck as she closed her eyes, silently praying. His other hand rose up to stroke through her hair while he was so close. Against his armored chest hers heaved in and out, tears forming in her eyes as she felt the shivering between her legs.

"Just... let me go," she stammered. "I'll fix your damn bots, don't do this... you don't want to do this!"

"Do what? I'm not going to kill you. You're not worth the effort," Vegeta laughed. "A moment ago you were all brass and now you're terrified. What do you think I'm going to do."

"You don't want to do this... don't... take me," she pleaded.

"Take you WHERE?" Vegeta snorted. "Woman, what DO you fear? Tell me and Ill release you. I'm in a magnanimous mood."

"Don't... rape me," she whispered. At this Vegeta shuddered, backing away slightly.

"Rape you? Are you insane?" Vegeta snorted. "You actually think I'd lower myself to screw you against your will? How foolish!"

"You mean you aren't..." she trailed off.

"You have a high opinion of yourself, woman," Vegeta snorted, grabbing both her wrists and glaring at her.

"Then why are you doing this?" she asked. "You scared the crap out of me, satisfied?"

"No," Vegeta murmured, glancing at her with widened eyes. He snorted, smelling something that made his nose twitch. His hip was pressed right into her sex, and Bulma tingled with sexual fervor.

"Please Vegeta-sama let me go, okay?" she asked.

"Humph, be glad you amuse me, woman," Vegeta said, releasing her. He stepped back, and Bulma felt her knees quaking. She stepped to the side, and stumbled. His arms reached out and grasped her waist, and she shivered again in fear. Promptly she passed out with relief. Grumbling, Vegeta picked up the woman and shoved a lab counter clear. He laid her down, wondering what the hell had just happened.

"Why does she smell that way. Could she be aroused by fear?" Vegeta blinked. A sense of revulsion and thrill filled him when he smelled her heat.

He grabbed a cup of water and threw it over her. Bulma blinked and jolted up, screaming as she saw the Saiyan Prince leaning over her in confusion. "You... you're still here!"

"I am. What was the reason you lost unconsciousness?"

"You scared the crap out of me, you asshole!" she snapped, scrambling to put the lab counter between them.

"I won't hurt you, idiotic woman. I was only trying to scare you," Vegeta snorted.

"How do I know that? Get out of here! You've had your sick thrills now BEAT it!"

"I'm wasting my time anyway," Vegeta snorted, turning his back and storming out. Bulma felt her heart pounding in her chest, amazed she was alive.

* * *

Later in the week she rarely saw him, except when he would glance in and then move away. Like a wary animal he kept clear of her, making her wonder what the hell was going on? Had she somehow spooked him? Eventually he would drift into the lab, and make some insulting comment that she would respond to. Day after day she was amazed he didn't threaten her physically. In fact he kept his distance from her. 

This was why she was surprised two weeks later by what happened. As part of the Capsule 4 she shinnied up a tall ladder to install the engine parts. While a bot could do the job, Bulma had the urge to tone her legs for Yamucha. Lately he had spent more and more time at the gym. They had not been on a date that whole time Vegeta had spooked her in the lab.

She hadn't told Yamucha what happened. Partly she was afraid it would cause Yamucha to confront Vegeta and get himself killed. Vegeta kept to himself, minimizing all contact save peering in to check on her, or grunting at Yamucha bringing his food. Bulma a few times would leave the tray before the GR, and he would open the hatch when he was ready to take it, grumbling at her to leave.

"Damn I forgot my soldiering iron," she cursed. She shinned down and then grabbed it from the workbench. Around her hips was her tool belt, and on her face a large backward cap. IN shorts and a T-shirt she was casual and sweaty. Her messy hair was tucked into a loose braid. She hadn't worn it that way since she was a teenager.

Bulma cursed again, reaching her arm out to try and reach the panel. She leaned forwards, then crawled up to the top rung. If she stretched her tiptoes she could just about reach the control circuit and quickly solder it. Precariously the ladder wobbled, and she felt the world pitch sideways. A scream escaped her lips as she felt her footing slip.

Then something crashed under her. Panting, Bulma realized she hadn't hit the ground. Rather something warm and breathing held her off the ground. Stunned, she lay still, wondering what had just happened. The ladder lay on its side having fallen with a horrible clatter at least twenty feet. A voice gruffly snarled, "You stupid woman what the HELL do you think you're doing? Showing how brainless you are?"

"What... who..." she stammered.

"Are you dead, or what, idiot!" Vegeta snarled at her. She blinked up to see he had caught her under her arms and back, glaring at her as if she was the stupidest thing on two feet.

"What do you care! Put me down you ass!" she snapped. Vegeta carried her over and deposited her with an inelegant thump on a lab stool.

"What were you trying to do, you weak human female? Don't you have your bots do that?" Vegeta ranted.

"I repeat, what do you care?" Bulma yelled back, hardly believing he had caught her.

"I don't want to clean the mess off the lab floor. What would that doddering fool of a father think? Besides, who would finish the new GR?" he snorted.

"Thanks bunches," she stammered, panting hard.

"Humph, be more careful. I won't always be around to save your fat ass," Vegeta glared, storming off as if he were incredibly pissed.

"Wait a minute!"

"What do you want now, fool?" he grunted.

"Thanks for saving my ass," she said quietly.

"Humph," Vegeta grunted, marching out.

* * *

Another day of learning the ropes at Capsule had her nerves frayed to shreds. The future President had endured a whole few months of her father pushing her to learn each and every facet of running Capsule Corps for he was only thinking of his future and hers. So far she was failing miserably according to his standards. 

"It's not too much to ask that you pay attention, Princess," said Dr. Briefs, pursuing her in. "You're the future. I've always groomed you to be my successor. I'd hate to be wrong."

"Dad I'm trying! I can't be you, okay?"

"Bulma you're smart and intelligent. If I can run this place from nothing you should find it a snap! I can't understand why it's such an issue. Economics is a science, and you've always succeeded in everything you put your mind to. Haven't you been studying the latest quarterly report?"

"Dad I'm sorry that I was caught off guard. I've been distracted lately."

"It's the least I can ask you to do to spend more time each night when you're tinkering in your labs to study what I've given you! You can hire scientists to carry your research out once you're President. Even now you refused to hire a new Vice President of R and D who could have easily taken over your projects to free you up!"

"I like working in the lab, okay? It's the only way I get any relief from His Royal Nastiness!"

"Vegeta works hard to protect us. And you've got to do your part as well. I'm counting on you. What if something should happen to me?"

"I help you fix the GR as it is! Isn't that my main priority?"

"Your priorities have to be on multitasking. Make more efficient use of your time and you should be able to handle it all," he snorted. "You've got to learn sooner or later. I mean you could cut back on that shopping you do..."

"Dad please, it relaxes me! You don't know what I go through!"

"I do, and I'm rather tired of your excuses. I can't believe you almost fell asleep during a meeting! Perhaps you'll have to make sacrifices..."

"Fine I'll try harder," she mumbled.

"Good. Just realize that we each must do our part, dear. It's only for the best. If you succeed then you'll be able to carry on my work," Dr. Briefs said. Turning he left his daughter alone to contemplate his words.

"He makes me SO mad I want to scream," she mumbled. Angrily she wandered to the kitchen desperate for anything to distract her.

Her mother looked up from what she was doing, and Bulma saw to her dismay that dinner was only partly started. "Oh honey, you'll have to finish cooking dinner for that lovely young man. Your father and I have bridge tonight with the Cinnamons because your father has some business deal to close with the mister while I schmooze with the missus. I've put the steak in to broil, and you just need to make sure they come out in time with the potatoes."

"Mom, are you sure I have to do it? I'm really tired I had a LONG day," she sighed.

"Honey you know how important this is to your father and me, please?" she urged. "I forgot."

"You could program the bots to do it," Bulma sighed, sinking into a nearby chair in exhaustion. Her mother set down a tumbler filled with icy water next to her. Gratefully she swallowed it.

"Dearie, you know he hates machine cooked food! We need to treat him with respect, after all he IS royalty and he IS so bravely working to defend us from those awful nasty machines, remember?" Bunny said sweetly.

"Fine, I'll do it. When do you and Daddy leave?"

"In just a half hour. Make sure you have dinner ready for Vegeta by half past six. Oh dear I have to go get dressed! And don't worry, I'm sure you'll have no problem with him this time. A well fed man is always a happy man," she grinned.

"Okay," she mumbled as her mother moved off, giving her a peck on the cheek. Somberly Bulma tied an apron around her skirt, annoyed that she had no time to change.

It would take a considerable amount of time to get everything ready, even though her mother had set a vast amount of food out for her to heat and finish. Just loading up the plates was a chore. Yet Bulma was glad for something that wasn't too hard to screw up. Everything was more or less cooked. All she had to do was set the large dining room table with the vast amounts of food for Vegeta in multiples of ten. They were all lined up in neat ranks with cellophane covering the ten salads, then the plates of main course.

Of course Bulma set some aside for herself. Munching on carrot sticks she raced the next portions out just in time to see her mother and father hurrying down the stairs. They waved goodbye in a flurry. Her mother whispered her thanks, and her father gave her a nod.

"Don't forget to read about the Jasmine account. We have a business meeting first thing Monday morning, all right?" he said. "And don't wait up for mom and me. We might very well spend the night."

"Fine dad," she said.

"Don't forget the report. And I've left the computer discs with the data files on your laptop. You should use the time this weekend to get caught up and prepare that presentation. I've had your secretary prepare everything you need..."

"Dad, its FRIDAY!"

"Honey please, if you knuckle down you can knock their socks off. Considering the stellar flop that went today, you might just pull the account out of the dustbin if you pull it off!"

"Dad," she sighed.

"Bye, and don't forget what we talked about. I'm counting on you!" he said, rushing off after his wife. Bulma clenched her fists, then threw the binder onto the sofa with the computer discs that tumbled out.

"Damn it, what do I look like? A maid and VP?" she cursed.

"No, you look like an idiot, Bulma. Is dinner prepared?" Vegeta asked, making her shriek.

"Don't you SCARE me like that!"

"I hope that idiot boyfriend of yours isn't joining us. I can't stand his idle prattle!"

"Yamucha has a GAME, not that it's any of your business. Now just go sit down and eat! I've fixed everything so you can just shut up and stuff your face, your Whyness," she grumbled.

"Someone have a bad day at the hair salon?" Vegeta grinned; tossing a sweat saturated towel at her. She grabbed it and threw it down.

"I'm not going to let you piss me off. I've already eaten. Just leave the dirty dishes on the table and I'll get them later," she said.

"Humph, are you actually deigning to do as I ask? Whatever has come over you, woman?" he asked.

"Just eat already, so I get you out of my face," she snorted, marching as far away as she could into the kitchen. Vegeta smirked, and wandered towards the dining room table. It was a nice change to have dinner in peace.

When he had finished, he saw no sign of her. It worried him to see her so strangely cooperative in retrospect. Usually she would have given him more resistance. At last when she came in to collect the dirty dishes from the soup and salad, he saw the frown on her face.

"You look like that idiot mother of yours in that apron. But what the hell is this with that stupid thing you call a suit?"

Bulma didn't answer, simply clanking dishes and throwing them into the large buffet cart. She barked an order to one of the bots to push it towards the kitchen as she snatched the glass away from him that he handed to her.

"Anything ELSE, your Majesty, or can I GO?" she snorted. "I brought your damn desert. The bots will clean up the rest!"

"Well, now that you mention it, it's rather peaceful with your voice not screeching in my ear. Did you actually take some etiquette lessons?"

"Go away Princely pants, I'm not in the mood. You'll have to argue at the mirror tonight because I'm going to shower and bed."

"What the hell is bothering you? You broke a nail or something?" Vegeta taunted, finishing his prime rib.

"I haven't had time for such stupid crap, baka," she countered, shoving the potatoes at him.

"Oh this is a first, you not stopping to coordinate your nail polish to that scrap of cloth you call a power suit? What will the neighbors think? You're slipping, woman," Vegeta grinned.

"Bite me," she snapped. "I'm not in the mood. Just leave me alone, okay?"

"Too bad. You're just begging for it. Moping around like some spoiled brat when you could make yourself useful on those upgrades. Or is your social calendar too filled with that shopping..."

"Vegeta, get lost! I don't just sit and eat bon-bons and do my hair and nails! For your info I am learning to run this damn company!"

"Oh, is he insane. You must be his last resort since he has no son to pass this onto," he chuckled. "As if you could run anything."

"For your information, your Royal Nastiness, I'm going to be the next president of Capsule. I could run this place fine if I didn't have to wait on YOU hand and foot!" she yelled.

"It's not my fault you like to moon over that idiotic weakling or moan and sigh because you don't have your act together, idiot," Vegeta said. "You'd not last a minute running a kingdom, let alone a stupid corporation!"

Bulma gripped the end of the table, feeling hot tears form. Anger filled her and she was desperate to hold it together so she wouldn't cry before him. She felt the past few years of frustration bubbling up and Vegeta was a convenient target. "As if you would care! I haven't seen YOU run anything since your planet was blown sky high! So don't even try judging me!"

"You've a lot of nerve saying THAT! I'm a Prince and I'm perfectly capable of running a kingdom. You should shut up about matters you no nothing about! How dare you insult me!"

"How dare YOU insult me, you prick! If it wasn't for this corporation you'd be SOL!"

"I could run this miserable game with my eyes closed, woman," he snorted.

"Then you try to run the company!" she burst out. "I didn't ASK for my father to pass this onto me!"

"As if I even care about it. This place is useless. Although I figure I could do a far better job then you ever could. Considering how you daydream all the time," he snickered.

"Maybe you're right? I wish to hell I never had to see a damn stock report again?" she yelled at him, throwing a binder in his direction. "Just LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Bulma shoved herself away from the table, and didn't even look back. "Hey, I didn't give you permission to leave!" he snapped.

"I don't care, asshole! Go get bent!" she screamed, wheeling on him. "Damn you, you have no RIGHT to tell ME what to do! I'm so sick of people telling me what to think and feel that..."

"I have every right, considering I'm far superior to any of you weaklings. And I the Prince..."

"Then act worthy of my respect!" she yelled back. "You're no prince I'd want to rule over me! You don't have any clue of what it is to really lead anything! All you know how to do is boss people around. Well let me tell you that's NO way to lead!"

"I would hold my tongue if I were you! I'm born and bred to lead. You're a poor excuse to even deign to judge what leadership qualities are!" Vegeta hissed, grabbing her wrist and tugging her towards him.

"I don't CARE what you think about me, Vegeta! You hear me, I don't CARE!" she screamed. Angrily she beat her free hand on his chest.

"The bitch has a temper? Mind you watch your claws before I tear them out," Vegeta taunted her.

Angrily she squirmed and kicked against him. She spit in his face, screaming, "Why can't you leave me alone! Damn you, just leave me alone! I can't... I can't..."

"You dare to spit in my face? Such insult to the Royal person is punishable by DEATH!" he threatened, grasping her throat and pressing her against the wall. HE grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head.

Bulma stared right into his pitch black eyes, finally snapping. All the insults he had slowly piled up towards her were a fun game of verbal banter. Yet she was sick of the constant assault by every member of authority. For a moment she placed her father's face on Vegeta's, then threw her fear to the wind. Perhaps he would back down if she pushed hard enough. Doubtless he was just trying to get a rise out of her.

"You'd kill me for something THAT lame?" she asked. "It's not MY fault you're so damn sensitive! If you want my respect, EARN IT!"

"I demand you apologize to me this instant. It's only because you have some use that I don't kill you now, woman," said Vegeta in cold rage. He couldn't understand why she was so foolish to attack him with such disrespect. While such insults could not go unpunished he really didn't want to kill her. Rather just scare her into submission because he enjoyed their arguments. Nevertheless there was hatred towards him that he didn't like, and his pride would not tolerate such flagrant disrespect.

"Oh crap, you'd really kill me?" she asked.

"I have the power of life and death over you, female. Don't ever forget that I tolerate your presence because you're of use to me. But that doesn't mean that you dare overstep that and think you can get away with saying such slander!"

"You have no right to insult me like that! If you want me to apologize, treat me like a human being, Vegeta. That's ALL I ask! Damn it, can't you see I'm at my wit's end!"

"What did you say, woman? That didn't sound like an apology. Care to try AGAIN?" Vegeta demanded, his gloved hand enclosing her slender neck. He pushed her towards the wall, not hurting her but snaring her body with his pressed to it.

"I'm sorry I said that, okay," she whimpered. "Just please let me go. I've had the day from hell and I'm too tired to argue."

"Took you long enough to apologize," Vegeta said, blinking at her response.

"You're right, I'm wrong, let's just call it a day? Please your Majesty?" she pleaded.

Vegeta blinked at her response, his next words stopping on his tongue. He hadn't expected that admission. What he had hoped for was some groveling, but this was downright desperate, almost pathetic? For as much as he wanted her to submit something inside told him that he didn't want the Woman to be reduced to such a base level. All the fire and spirit had blown out. Had he really been that forceful? By now she would have fought back, instead of giving up so easily. Bulma squeezed her eyes shut, feeling fear and anger explode. At that moment she knew she was likely to be dead.

"Well, I should hope I'm right, because I'm the Prince, and you serve me. You're lucky I'm in a generous mood today, woman," he sneered.

"What's the use in fighting with you if you're always right? Please, just let me go, Vegeta-sama," she sniffled. He saw a gleaming moisture pool up at the corners of her eyes. Bulma was so weary of fighting she didn't care what he would do next. Shame and fear spread all over her body because she believed she truly was a failure. She had let Vegeta get the better of her, something that was the cherry on top of the sundae she had constructed for most of her life. Failed daughter, failed girlfriend, failed inventor, and failure period.

Every muscle went limp in Vegeta's grip. He watched Bulma bite her bottom lip with pearly white teeth so puny and blunt. A choked back sob bubbled out of her throat. She shivered despite the fact it was not very cold in the kitchen. Tears spilled down her pale cheeks, wetting the fabric of his glove. Pure shock and surprise hit Vegeta like a meteorite. Ordinarily he enjoyed making people weaker then him suffer, but he didn't want this. IT was far too easy. Why was she making it so easy? Was she mocking him?

"You can go free woman I'm done with you. See that you don't push me that far again with such a disrespectful tone. I might not be able to stop myself next time from seriously hurting you," he said gruffly, releasing her and stepping back.

Bulma hugged herself, walking past him with slumped shoulders. Vegeta watched her retreat in defeat, dragging her feet. Small whimpers caused her chest to heave in and out. A pang of something unfamiliar constricted the Prince's throat, bringing back memories of something he'd suppressed. _For a moment he saw a small boy whimpering and crying after Frieza had beaten him for subordination. That one-day the Princeling had enough, and decided the only way to survive was to play the victim. Freiza actually let him go that one time then berated him later for giving up so easily._

_"You are pathetic. I had such hopes that you would defy me. But I should be glad you value your life over your stupid monkey pride. Remember you place as you have today, and perhaps I will be quicker to give you what little respect you don't deserve, worm," Freiza had leered as he shoved Vegeta's back with his boot. _

_"I serve you," he said quietly. "My life is at your command."_

_"Heh, so compliant. I suppose I have won after all," he snickered. "You may go, worm. And see to it that you recall this day. Whimpering and crawling will only get you so far. I thought you had more pride, but perhaps I was misjudging you as far weaker then you say you were. So much like your father, all pride and stubbornness, but I beat it out of him. Perhaps it's fortunate that you have learned to humble yourself in my greatness. I might even let you live another year."_

Shuddering with the memory Vegeta snapped his head back and forth to banish it. Abruptly he forced his mind back present. That way in which Bulma's face wrinkled with humiliation bothered him. Could he possibly snap her out of that annoying funk by baiting her again? Perhaps then she'd remind him she did have a backbone. So he needled, "What's wrong? You realize that I'm truly your superior after all?"

"Does it matter?" she asked, not turning around.

"Woman, you give up so easily," Vegeta said with a slow taunt.

"Just leave me alone Vegeta, please," she sniffled, brushing tears from her eyes in shame.

"Humph, what the hell's wrong with you lately?" he mumbled.

Bulma had already left by the time he turned around. Strangely his victory felt hollow. Again he felt the pang of guilt cross through his mind, but this time he did not push it aside. The woman wasn't her usual self, and he had broken her, something that he had never wished to do. He wandered after her, his curiosity piqued.

* * *


	2. Enemies No More

**A Taste of Heat**

_**No Longer Enemies**_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z. Toriyama does. I don't get paid for this, and the only thing that's mine are the plot ideas here. It means no harm to a great series! I know that you've been enjoying this, and I suddenly had the urge to write a prequel to the events in chapter 1. It's a bit on the dark side, but it answers some questions as to why Vegeta's so moody and unpredictable. Hope you enjoy this till I get more written for the next chapter. Thanks to pitkat, heiress, bulma and all you other wonderful reviewers that make this possible!

* * *

_

Bulma stripped off her clothes in an angry rant. Cloth shredded as she tore the business suit and stockings. One shoe after the other slammed into the wall. Angrily she threw herself onto her bed, sobbing her eyes out as she clutched the nearest stuffed animal. Then she peered across at the picture of her and her father. Picking it up she hurled it against the mirror, shattering it.

Vegeta heard the glass breaking. He stopped by the door to peer through it, easing it open a crack. Bulma was storming around the room, seizing anything breakable and smashing it into the walls. This angry display did not square with her former admissions of his correctness. He had suspected she was simply yielding so he would leave her alone, giving him the feeling that he'd proved he was superior.

That wasn't what he wanted. With disgust he realized he had done precisely what Freiza had done. He was little better then a bully. Something that had no honor. Drawing in his breath he wondered if the damage to her ego was irreparably. Just why he should be so worried he didn't question. He enjoyed their verbal sparring as a highlight of his day. It wouldn't be the same without her spirited blue eyes flashing with that rage.

Carefully he picked his way through the mess of clothing. Bulma's clothes lay scattered. The dull rush of a shower covered the sounds of someone sobbing. They reverberated on tile, reaching Vegeta's sensitive ears. His heart pounded more strongly, irritating him. Shoving away his disgust he decided to satisfy his curiosity for just how damaged the woman's emotions were.

Stealthily he swung open her bathroom door. He slipped off his white boots, setting them to one side. His feet made no noise on the tile floor, in only his socks. Bulma's shape huddled against the glassy shower door, her blue hair huddled over her body. He smelled the chemicals of tears mingled with strawberry shampoo. A gut wrenching sob reached his ears, followed by whimpering and wailing.

"Great Oorzu she's even loud when she blubbers," Vegeta thought. Not asking himself why he slowly pushed the glass shower door open. Cold water drenched his blue workout suit. He pulled the armor off his chest and tossed it down with a thump. Bulma was so wrapped up in her misery that she didn't hear the scrape of the shower door sliding open. Curled up in a fetal position on the shower she squeezed her knees to her chest.

Something caught in Vegeta's through. _Memories flashed of a small boy whimpering on a narrow bunk, bloody and bruised in a dozen places. _Averting his gaze, Vegeta grabbed a big fluffy towel then approached the shower. Carefully he reached down and wrapped the towel around her shivering body. He effortlessly picked Bulma up in his arms.

"Leave me alone," she sobbed, beating on his chest.

"Shut up and let's get you out of here," he said quietly.

"What... what the HELL do you want? Let me go you ecchi!" she shrieked.

"Shh," Vegeta urged. "I don't want any sexual favors from you so forget it!"

"Let me GO you asshole!" she shrilled, kicking and screaming. Clutching tightly to her he carried her into her bedroom and squeezed her tightly to his body. Energy flared around her, startling Bulma. Steam hissed from the evaporating water. Despite her fists pummeling his body he held her tightly on his lap, arms not yielding.

"Do stop crying, Bulma," Vegeta whispered in her ear. "You'll make yourself sick. I had no idea my words would cause this affect. So kindly shut the hell up and remain still."

"What are you doing in here!" she cried.

"Stopping you from doing something stupid, woman," said Vegeta.

"Kami sometimes I hate you! You're driving me insane! First you make me feel like nothing but something you wipe off your shoe and then you barge into my private bathroom and drag me out like some pervert!"

"Hush now and listen to me, woman. You gave in way too quickly to our confrontation. Don't you realize I didn't WISH for you to yield so readily! What is wrong with you? I don't like seeing you reduced to such a pathetic state!"

"If you're so concerned about my demeanor, then don't treat me like I'm nothing! Honestly I don't know what to think when you're like this! You can't keep playing head games with me Vegeta and expect me to shrug it off! I'm not like you. I'm not an indestructible warrior who can let everything bounce off of him! I'm a woman and I have feelings. Whether you think they're weak or not, I could care less, but you can't expect me to..."

"Woman, listen to me. I'm sorry, all right? I'm fricking sorry that I didn't realize you had a pisser of a day. I'm trying to apologize you idiot!" Vegeta growled.

"You, apologize? Why?" Bulma glared angrily at him.

"Because I want to. The Prince of All Saiyans doesn't need to explain his actions to ANYONE. And if you tell anyone that I just apologized, you'll be sorry."

"Kami I don't know what to think," she whispered, shivering.

"Now, what the hell's gotten up your ass? That you can't tell the difference between a good verbal fight like we normally share after dinner and when I'm being serious! Don't you see that you're one of the only beings on this pathetic planet who dare stand up to me?"

"What?" she blinked unbelieving. Her mouth dropped open along with her eyes widening to form three perfectly round o's in her pale face.

"You've got a spine, few humans do. I can't believe I'm being so damn... nice... but I don't like seeing one like you reduced to blubbering like a whelp. So do me a favor and tell me what's caused this uncharacteristic change in your behavior. And how we can get things back to the way they should be, eh?" Vegeta mumbled.

"I need more clothes on first," she murmured.

"Go get dressed, woman, and then explain why you're so damn moody," said Vegeta. Turning away he held out a blue silk robe hanging over the end of her four poster bed. Bulma snatched it out of his hand, wrapping it around herself and tying the sash tightly. He averted his gaze to stare out the large bay window till Bulma informed him she was decent.

"This isn't like you, Bulma. You're better than this. Reducing yourself to a simpering pushover isn't what I wanted to achieve. It's beneath you," Vegeta continued, still not looking at her.

"I'm decent you can look," Bulma said quietly. He whirled around, only to see her eyes gleaming with anger and cold hatred. The next second he felt her stinging slap and witnessed the front of her open hand crossing his face. Surprisingly it stung far longer than he had expected. Although he growled in his throat he delighted in the sudden burst of moxy she'd just displayed. Instead of retaliating he kept his face turned to one side. Clenching her hand she whimpered.

"Then why did you do it? I don't like people scaring me to death, jerk off," Bulma glared at him.

"Feel better?" he mumbled.

"No," she said.

"Next time tell me to drop dead if you're having a bad day, woman," said Vegeta. "I don't want things to escalate to the point where I could kill you if you are fool enough to insult me."

"Then you should learn to control your damn temper," she muttered.

Vegeta forced his fists to either hip, clenching and unclenching his gloved hands. Tightly through ground teeth he gritted, "I'm going to stand in the hallway. You had best get dressed. I should shoot myself for even listening to your reasons for your behavior, but seeing as you won't get back to your usual self that I can tolerate, I will listen to your... grievances."

"Okay Vegeta you win," Bulma slowly nodded. Realizing that he actually gave a damn caught her by surprise. In his sick twisted way he cared. Even if it was only because she was one of the few people on the planet who could fix his machines. Slowly the Prince rose from the bed and exited the room. He coughed, letting her know he was waiting for her in the hallway. She grabbed some sweatpants and a T shirt to throw on, then slid her feet into her sandals. Twisting her hair into a towel turban she exited the large bedroom.

"You can come in, your Whyness," said Bulma quietly. "We can talk on my balcony."

"Fine, let's just get this over with, so I can get back to training, woman," said Vegeta quietly. He gently took her hand in his gloved one and tugged her insistently towards the porch. Seeing her flabbergasted he tucked that wrist in her bent arm.

"Okay you win. Stop being so pushy!" Bulma glared at him. She let the Prince lead her in his own way to the balcony. He slid open the glass door, then nudged her outside.

"Sit," he grunted, pulling a chair out form the table. He grabbed a soda out of the small bar fridge and set it down in front of her. She realized it was her favorite beer, and cracked it open. Across from her he sat in one of the other chairs, opening one of the bottles of cranapple juice she used to make cosmopolitans.

"My father gave me the song and dance about responsibility," she said quietly.

"He thinks you unfit as his successor?" Vegeta ventured, sipping on his beverage.

"Yeah pretty much. Ever since I was a kid, he's been grooming me to replace him. But lately he's been pushing more responsibility on me, making me Vice President. Between that and caring for your needs I'm frazzled," Bulma admitted.

"Why did you not tell me, woman?" Vegeta asked.

"Would you have cared?" she shot back.

"No, but it would have explained your current behavior," Vegeta answered. "You could benefit from consultation from one trained in leadership capacity. But I suppose your intelligence did not..."

"Since when do you give a crap about this company?" she asked.

"A Prince need not justify his actions. Let's just say that I'm intrigued with how wealth and power are distributed on this world. And as one trained and bred to rule, perhaps you can learn from my expertise," Vegeta snorted.

"Okay your Majesty, if you think you'd be any better at running Capsule, I'll take your challenge," Bulma said.

"Seriously? I suppose it took you long enough to come to your senses," Vegeta snickered.

"Then how would you deal with this?" she asked, reaching for a binder that had been laying unopened on one of the other chairs. She shoved it into Vegeta's face.

"What the hell is this?"

"The recent second quarterly report. Capsule's gross earnings are down, and we're trying to cut our profit margins..."

"What's your upstream and downstream expenditures?" Vegeta asked, riffling through the papers. Bulma blinked at him suddenly memorizing the figures quickly.

"Uh it's on page 35," she said.

"I need to see your expense rosters and your distribution of labor," said Vegeta quietly. "There's a whole slew of inadequacies that could easily be changed by altering your command structure."

"I'll get my laptop," Bulma said, getting up to rush back into the house. Vegeta watched her emerge with the slim notebook computer. Propping it up before him she turned it on. He watched her lean close to scroll down and open up the spreadsheets.

"Humph, this is a start," Vegeta said. "Someone's siphoning off your capital. Don't tell me your accountants didn't notice the discrepancies between this particular unit and that..."

"Son of a bitch where?"

"Someone's skimming, woman," said Vegeta. "I'd best get your authorities and punish him appropriately."

"Who would..."

"Someone in your Marketing and Investment division idiot. They're using far more then would be required to make the desired product," he snorted.

"How would you know! You don't even know what we make!"

"I've got a good idea, woman. Allotment of resources is something that I could do in my sleep."

"Then what would you do?"

"Make an example of him to bring the others in line," he said. "Too bad torture is outlawed on your world."

"And how? Before he gets his stuff and covers his tracks?"

"Draw him out, and nail him," said Vegeta. "And determine who his co conspirators are. Then use the appropriate disciplinary action to destroy his credibility. Since you don't have the death penalty..."

"I can think of something equally humiliating," she said quietly, tapping her fingers. "But how do I explain to Dad?"

"Write a speech for your next board of executives. Much like I'd do when holding court. Tell them that you're in control, even if you don't seem to. That will deter your skimmer. Then while he's overconfident he'll get careless and make a mistake. Then you can act and draw him out," Vegeta said.

"Public speech isn't my strong suit," she grumbled.

"Here's how you'd say it," he grumbled, getting up and pacing about. "I hope you can type quickly woman... because I'm helping to save your ass."

"Oh don't let ME stop you," she snorted, bringing up her word processor as Vegeta cleared his throat.

For the next half hour she feverishly typed down what seemed like a rambling diatribe of political spinning. Word choices seemed to rank on par with some of the more smooth speechwriters of the King's own addresses. She could tell that some of them had double meanings aimed at intimidating some and reassuring others. A silent command in the twist of phrase mingled with his words of silent confidence.

An hour later they both trotted downstairs for dinner. Mrs. Briefs had whipped up a considerable amount of food. Bulma had printed up a draft of her press release and speech for the board of trustee's meetings that she had called. Her father stood up, blinking at her in confusion when he pointed to his computer.

"What's this about someone siphoning off from Marketing?" Dr. Briefs gasped.

"Someone's playing us for fools dad. Not just that, but some of our proprietary stuff has been leaked for a profit to one of our competitors," she said.

"I hadn't seen this. When did you discover this?"

"The past few days," she said. "I went through the financial report, and saw the discrepancies. I've put together a presentation and emailed the board of trustees to meet in a week. Also I've got a speech to address the company tomorrow."

"Good grief, if I'd known," he mumbled, glancing through her packet. Bulma nodded as his eyes widened. Behind her Vegeta smirked, slowly piling his plate high with fried chicken and copious amounts of mashed potatoes.

"Should I break the news or should you?"

"I'll do the honors if you'd permit me to use your wording," said Dr. Briefs. He swallowed hard, glancing at her awkwardly.

"What Dad?"

"I owe you an apology Princess. I've been too hard on you. This is top notch work," he said quietly. "Can you forgive your old man for being a bit..."

"Yes. Just as long as you realize that between this and Vegeta's needs I've got my time split. What's more important? That or his GR?"

"Very well. You devote your energies to his needs, and I'll delegate your responsibilities to employees of your choice," he nodded. "You've proved that you can do the work. I'm certain you can find the appropriate substitutes."

"Thank you Dad," she said as he leaned over and kissed her cheek.

"Now let's have some dinner," he said. Vegeta grunted as Bulma settled into the chair next to him. Leaning over she pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"Ugh what was THAT for?" he winced. "I'm trying to eat."

"Thank you," she said with a small smile, rubbing her cheek to his as she gave him a hug.

"You two have something to tell us?" Mrs. Briefs asked.

"What?" they both blinked.

"You're acting quite cozy," she teased.

"I was just thanking him for... um not blowing up the GR lately," she thought.

"I have been overzealous in my use of it. You will all be rewarded for your services rendered to me," Vegeta cleared his throat as he glared at Dr. Briefs. "And your daughter's efforts to keep my training running will be sufficient so you can run y our business."

"All right, if that's what Bulma wants," said Dr. Briefs, blinking at him in astonishment.

"She's one of the few humans I can tolerate," Vegeta cleared his throat. "Although present company is excepted."

"I'm so glad you feel welcome," said Bunny, leaning over to kiss his cheek playfully. Vegeta groaned, blushing deeply.

"Mom, you're embarrassing him," Bulma groaned. Vegeta shifted his chair closer to Bulma's, shirking away from Mrs. Brief's flirtatious wink.

"You don't usually eat dinner with us. It's a pleasant surprise," Mrs. Briefs said. "But when Bulma dear said you'd be joining us..."

"I was getting bored," Vegeta said quietly, stuffing his face. "By the way where's Scar Face?"

"He's training I imagine," said Mrs. Briefs. "Do you know Bulma?"

"I don't know, and frankly I don't care right now," Bulma said.

"What was that?" Dr. Briefs choked on his scotch and soda.

"He needs to train, and I need to keep the GR running. Besides, I'm not his keeper," Bulma shrugged. "He can do whatever he wants."

"I had assumed that you two were, an item?" Mrs. Briefs asked.

"Mother, he and I have broken up so many times I figured it wasn't working. I've got more important things to worry about now. He's got to train and fight the Androids, and I've got to help prepare. My love life is far less important then that," she said.

"Glad to see you taking some responsibility. I must admit that I'm relieved to see you're no longer going to associate with that young man," said Dr. Briefs.

"We're just good friends, that's all," said Bulma.

"Took you damn long enough," Vegeta mumbled under his breath.

"There's plenty of fish in the sea, or in the pond right here, you know," Mrs. Briefs said, nodding towards Vegeta.

"Honestly mom, how can I think of dating when the world's gonna be in danger in three years?" Bulma said seriously. "It might not matter."

"Oh don't be so gloomy! I do want some grand children you know!" Mrs. Briefs interrupted her.

"You do have your future to think about. And the future of the company," said her father quietly. "Someday you'll be passing on the company to your son or daughter. And I for one would enjoy being around to see that child before your mother or I... go to that big lab in the sky."

"We could do with an heir or heiress, Princess," Bunny giggled. "You're still young and beautiful, and three years IS a long time."

"Mom, stop pushing okay!" Bulma blushed profusely. Vegeta winced at the feel of someone's foot nudging his knee. He wondered if helping the woman with her work was something he'd come to regret.


	3. Pushed off the sofa AGAIN!

A Taste of Blue Chikara

By Trynia Merin

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z, Bulma or Vegeta or any of the characters here. Toriyama and Funimation and Toei Animation Co Ltd. Owns them. This is a work of fan fiction and is not meant to harm the series.

Rated R for adult situations and language.

* * *

Yamucha's room upstairs was directly next to hers, yet she hardly said two words to him. He had no other place to live at the time, and he was mostly gone at Kame house or some other woman's place when he wasn't there. In a huff he'd left after she refused to go to a concert with him, saying she'd have to foot the bill. 

This left Bulma with her usual milkshake and the promise of a long evening alone with romance movies on satellite television. IT was all too clear that her decision that she and Yamucha should see other people was final.

"Stupid men," she mumbled, wandering into the living room. Angrily she saw that someone else was already laying across the sofa, holding the remote in his gloved hand.

"Crap, crap… more crap," Vegeta grumbled, flicking channels. Glad for a target for her frustrations towards the male species, Bulma strode into the room and rounded the sofa.

"Ahem… aren't you supposed to STILL be training?"

"I'm relaxing, if it's any of YOUR business. What, you think even a Prince can't do with a bit of both?" he smirked. "I owe you no explanation for my decisions, girl… so mind your own business!"

"Jackass," Bulma cursed as Vegeta stuck his tongue out at her.

"I know you are but what am I?" he smugly responded.

"That's the LAST time I let you watch the satellite TV!" she snorted, annoyed he'd caught up on pop culture references.

"You're the bakka who wanted me to become well versed in this planet's culture, so don't blame me," Vegeta snickered.

"You're an asshole," she mumbled. "The Prince of ALL assholes…"

"Humph, no shit Wench, and don't you forget it," he smirked, stretching out on the sofa. She landed on the floor with an indignant yelp, and huffed as he grabbed the milkshake out of her hand.

"Dende, why do you have to steal my STUFF?"

"Because it's so fun to torment you," he shot back.

"That's mine! I've been busting my ass all week fixing your screw ups and you have the AUDACITY to horn in on my relaxation time!" she yelled, grabbing his knee and shoving down hard to pull herself to her feet. Unimpressed Vegeta gave her a bored look.

"So?" he asked. "I'm the one training to save this miserable rock ball from the androids. If anything you should be GLAD I'm staying here to protect your worthless lives…"

"Screw you Vegeta!" she screamed at him. "I've HAD it with your pissing all over me! I don't care who the hell you are!"

"What was that about screwing?" he lifted a brow, laughing at her standing over him.'

"Don't you DARE laugh at me, buster! I've HAD it!"

"I'm not the one who dressed me in that humiliating pink shirt," he shot back. "You think I ENJOY being stuck with you lower life forms?"

"Then LEAVE!" Bulma yelled. "Take Capsule 4 and get the HELL off this planet if you HATE us so much!"

"If there's one thing I've learned in this year living here amongst you primitives is that when you earth girls say one thing you mean the opposite, especially when you're angry," Vegeta taunted her, sitting up.

"Oooh!" she screamed and threw herself on him, hands flailing to smack his face. Unfortunately she miscalculated and landed flat on top of him, knocking the wind out of him with a grunt.

"Whoolf, what the HELL are you…" he gasped, and glanced up at her stammering and squirming on top of him. Pressing her hands against his chest she struggled to get up.

"Kuso… I… I…" she stammered, realizing she was dangerously close to sitting on a certain part of his anatomy. A flush of heat came between her legs as she tried to shift her weight off of him.

"That was the most pathetic attack in existence," he laughed up at her. "What are you trying to do, crush me under your fat butt?"

"Screw you!" she yelled. "Let me GO!"

"You're the one who threw yourself at me!" he grunted, struggling to get up off the sofa, but he was unable to lean up because she was struggling to get her balance. Under them both the sofa yielded, sucking them into its cushions like an amoeba.

* * *

"Am I interrupting something?" asked a voice that made Bulma want to shrink away. 

"What the blazes do you want?" Vegeta asked as Bunny grinned down at them.

"Oh nothing… just bringing you some lemonade… I'll just leave you two alone!" she chirped, setting down the tray and rushing out with a high pitched tittering giggle.

"Shimatta!" Bulma moaned, wishing she could get off but Vegeta was blinking up at her in confusion as she pressed her hands to his chest.

"That mother of yours cannot be any way related to you! You must have been artificially inseminated!" he shook his head.

"Sometimes I wonder that myself…" she shook her head, gasping as sweat poured down her face from trying to get off Vegeta, but slipping and landing with her chest pressed to his.

"How the DEVIL do I get off this fricking sofa! It's a trap… deactivate it at once!" he snarled, unable to get the leverage to get out from under her. The next moment he managed to sit up, with Bulma sprawled across his legs. One was bent overtop his hip while the other was back a ways.

"OUCH!" she yelped. "My leg doesn't bend that way!"

"Stupid human weaklings," he grunted, grabbing her hips and lifting her easily off him. He planted her right next to him on the sofa, and then grabbed a glass of ice cold lemonade to hide the faint blush behind.

"Why didn't you do that in the first place?" she mumbled, drowning her hot flush in an ice cold glass herself. Something made her tongue tingle, down her spine to her toes.

"Alcohol," Vegeta said, sniffing and making a face. "Does your mother wish to make me intoxicated?"

"I guess," she giggled, not wanting to move because she felt strangely awkward and giddy. She crossed her legs and sat on the sofa, wondering why she was staying here.

"You may sit here if you wish," he mumbled. "I suppose I can tolerate your company…"

"Gee thanks a million, your Royal Whyness," she snorted.

"You're welcome, blue Wench," he smirked, leaning back and then setting his feet on her lap.

"HEY!" she yelped, feeling his calves resting across her crossed knees.

"Much more comfortable," he snickered, and settled down to watch the television. Trapped there by his muscular thighs, Bulma groaned inwardly. More heat pooled between her thighs. Vegeta's nose twitched and he opened his eyes to look up at her.

"I… um… just realized you asked me to fix the GR…" she stammered, realizing he must have smelled her. Shaking, she saw the look of confusion in his dark eyes. Vegeta straightened up a bit, and sniffed closer.

"Hmm, you smell different human," he said.

"Please… let me up… move your damn legs…" she gasped, pushing them off.

"What the hell is this?" he asked, pointing to her lap. "You're soaking your shorts…"

"Don't ask… it's none of your business," she yelped, leaping up. His hand caught her wrist, tugging her down to sit next to him again.

"I didn't think human females did that. I suppose I was hasty in my assessment. Because it doesn't smell like sweat. Is that why that old pervert's always trying to steal women's underwear?" Vegeta asked.

"I… why are you asking me THAT? I thought you couldn't STAND humans!" she yelped.

"Since YOU invited me to stay, it's YOUR job to tell me about the culture of this miserable planet," Vegeta said sternly. "That includes everything that might be of interest…"

"Just… let me go okay… this is EMBARASSING!"

"Obviously it has everything to do with you being in heat," said Vegeta. "I assume females have a cycle on this world… because you don't smell like…"

"It's a highly personal thing okay…" she blushed.

"Humph, so you say. It's rather curious you always rush off to your bed chamber whenever…"

"VEGETA!" she shouted. "Knock it off!"

"You're perfectly content to ask ME about embarrassing things, Wench. What makes THIS different?" he snorted.

"Don't you have training to do?" she asked.

"Already done. I'm observing ningen culture as asinine as it is…" he snorted indignantly. "It's not for YOU to tell me what the hell I should do!"

"You never gave a care before about females," she snorted.

"And you're parading around like you're in heat. Whenever I see you you're wearing those tight revealing clothes. Yet I've not seen that baka suitor of yours… which you haven't mated yet…"

"That's NONE of your business…" she huffed.

"You have crappy standards for mate selection," he grunted. "Obviously you would have mated him by now if he had been acceptable. Or is protracted courtship practiced in some…"

"I'm not a fricking specimen!"

"Your father treats me as such, and I'm observing YOU now," Vegeta chuckled. "Besides that smell is driving me insane…"

"Then let me up, butt head and I'll get out of your face!" she snorted.

"You want help?" he asked. "How do you normally relieve…"

"WHAT? You want to help me?" she asked, jolting. "Why?"

"Because I want to, do I NEED another reason?" Vegeta asked her.

"I… I… um… well…" Bulma stammered. Cocking a dark brown, Vegeta observed how she was rendered speechless at that moment.

"You've been in bloody heat for the last few months and the smell is making me annoyed, so either let me satiate this urge or stay out of my proximity. It's distracting," he said.

"Why would YOU care?" she asked.

"Because I won't get a moment's peace if I don't," said Vegeta. "And I'm curious… if Saiyan females and ningens are so alike. Because that moisture makes you smell Saiyan…"

"Ugh… I can't believe I'm having this conversation with you!" she winced. Vegeta gently dragged her into his lap, holding her down with one arm.

"I'm not going to KILL you, stupid wench," he said quietly.

"I'm not some pleasure toy you can play with, your Majesty," she said angrily, trying to smack him.

"I didn't say you WERE, girl," he retaliated. "I'd be blind or stupid not to notice the effect I have upon you, and it's rather interesting…"

"Arrogant jerk!" she snorted.

"Takes one to know one," he smugly chortled, earning him a slap across the face. Bulma instantly regretted it because her hand stung as if she'd hit a wall.

"Owch!"

"Settle down, wench. I give you my word as the Prince of All Saiyans that I won't hurt you. Let me assist you in relieving yourself of this tension and I might just be a little more tolerable… what one must do to… prevent this scent from accumulating…"

"You're serious that you want to… help me?" she blinked. "I thought you despised me."

"I hate everyone, but you I can remotely stand. Besides, maybe you'll stop pining over that useless suitor of yours if you have some relief… and I'm NOT talking about doing anything that involves… breeding…"

"Okay, jerk, since you said so, go right ahead," she snorted. "If you think you'd be any better at… I mean how would YOU know anything about females?"

"Pleasure slaves?" he said. "No, seriously, that doddering old man and his magazines have some use… and those ridiculous pleasure slave movies have me intrigued…"

"That's NOT how it's done!" she yelped.

"Then explain?" he said.

"HERE?"

"Of course not HERE," he snorted, helping her up. "Someplace more appropriate."

Not believing her ears, she got up on shaky legs and let him take her by the hand. With her shaking fingers clenched in his white gloved hand she let him lead her towards the guest wing where he had his room. Yamucha's room upstairs was directly next to hers, yet she hardly said two words to him. He had no other place to live at the time, and he was mostly gone at Kame house or some other woman's place when he wasn't there. In a huff he'd left after she refused to go to a concert with him, saying she'd have to foot the bill.

* * *


	4. Bulma explains her craving

A Taste of Blue Chikara

By Trynia Merin

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z, Bulma or Vegeta or any of the characters here. Toriyama and Funimation and Toei Animation Co Ltd. Owns them. This is a work of fan fiction and is not meant to harm the series.

Rated R for adult situations and language.

* * *

Bulma always liked to have a king sized bed. Little matter that it hadn't seen much action as of late. With her hand clutched in Vegeta'ss gloved one, her heart skipped beats. By now her underwear was thoroughly soaked, and she felt like her head would explode from the hot blood pounding through it. 

"So, that clown doesn't seem to be home, does he?" Vegeta said, sniffing the air as they passed Yamucha's room. The door was locked, and Vegeta sensed no ki anywhere near.

"Never you mind," Bulma mumbled, finding her clothing sticking to herself in very odd places. Vegeta's gloved hand did not hide the heat that moved through it. Although their skin didn't touch, electricity seemed to crackle through it when she finally approached the door to her private suite of rooms. He released her grasp to watch her, crossing arms over his chest to see if she'd lose her nerve. Feeling dark stormy midnight eyes boring into the back of her neck, she fumbled with the combination lock she'd rigged up.

"You trying to keep the baka out, or in?" he teased.

"Shut up," she mumbled, as the door clicked open. She had installed it as a measure of extra security and as a deterrent if Yamucha particularly pissed her off. Hot breath hit her neck as she sensed Vegeta standing immediately behind her. Already her body tingled because she felt the hair on the back of her neck rising with each hot blast of Vegeta's breath upon it.

"Dammit, you should have given me this chamber, wench," he cursed, glancing around at the vast space. Although it was done up in pinks and purples with splashes of royal blue, he felt the thick plush nap of the carpet under his gold toed white boots once he followed her swaying hips inside. Her rounded backside and hips glided under that pair of shorts tantalizingly, which he found to his slight embarrassment he couldn't take his eyes off. Most human females were somewhat intriguing, but this one above all else held a place in his nightly fictions.

"Damn low class woman practically begging for satiation. If this were Namek she'd have been a toy of the whole Ginyuu force by now," Vegeta mumbled under his breath. It was shameless how she flaunted her body. Perhaps she'd respond to a bit of royal discipline. His white-gloved hands ached to spank that backside and instill some manners.

"What was that, your Whyness?" she asked, crossing over the vast space where a desk was laden with spare parts of computers. A huge net filled with stuffed animals hung suspended from one far corner. A double sliding glass door gave a view onto her balcony, where a full-scale grill sat. A chase lounge, wide screen plasma TV, and a comfortable armchair formed a sitting area to the immediate left. Two other doorways opened into what seemed to be a sumptuous bathroom, and a bedchamber, Vegeta noticed.

Behind them the door glided shut. Bulma turned to see Vegeta standing there, with a lascivious smirk on his face one second, then a frown of disinterest the next. However she'd caught him staring at her ass, and hid a smile of glee that he'd been looking at her. Instantly her eyes diverted to the stretch of spandex over hard molded muscle. If there was a word she could describe it was 'poured' when it came to Vegeta.

"And you have the nerve to call ME low class?" she mumbled. "Dressed like THAT… in those pants I can see your pulse through?"

"What was that regarding pulses?" he snorted, clearing his throat. "Do you want my assistant or not? I'm getting rather pissed off if you're wasting my time…"

"You volunteered for this, your royal Pain in my ass, so don't tell me you're changing your mind," Bulma said, wheeling on him.

"A Prince does NOT go back on his word, Wench. Show me to your chambers and I'll get this damn thing settled once and for all… and then I can stop hearing your damn fool whining about that clown's inadequacies… why I'm consenting to this I can't even begin to fathom, but this is infinitely preferable to having you roam around like a bitch in heat and disrupting my training!" Vegeta returned.

"Excuse the heck me… I'm not a BITCH, Monkey man!" Bulma turned on him, hands on her hips. Vegeta seemed unimpressed, just laughing at her.

"If the shoe fits, as your chikyuujin sayings go," Vegeta laughed deeply, sending shivers of outrage and anger simultaneously over her skin.

"Why you!" Bulma began, forgetting that he had the power to vaporize her to atoms in those two fingers of one glove at his side. Vegeta clicked his tongue, and suddenly zipped out of sight before she could grab the nearest object and throw it at him.

"Too slow, wench," Vegeta whispered right into her ear, causing her to yelp as he swept her up and threw her over his shoulder. She shrieked with outrage, pounding on his back. Across her butt he smacked hard with a white-gloved hand, walking towards the bedchamber.

"HEY! Put me DOWN!"

"Not just yet. Behave wench, or else you'll get a spanking," Vegeta taunted her.

"I changed my mind, get the hell out!" she yelped.

"Someone has to teach you some manners, you crazy wench, and since that bakka weakling isn't here, I'm elected," he laughed, kicking open the door and entering the pink and purple chamber that seemed all too fitting for a spoiled brat heiress.

"Hey… now WAIT!" she yelped, as he dumped her unceremoniously on the bed.

"Who does your interior design, Pepto Bismol or Baskin Robbins? It looks like Kakkarot puked up a whole strawberry milkshake in here," he snorted, glaring around the room in distaste at frilly pink sheets and ruffles. Shoving a whole host of stuffed animals off the bed, he unceremoniously dumped them on the floor before he climbed on the bed near her. Bulma made no move to escape, because she felt so shocked that the Saiyan no Ouji was actually thinking of helping her with her 'problem'.

* * *

She yelped when she felt him right next to her, his dark eyes fixing her in a stare like a cobra staking out its prey. Moving close he sniffed the back of her neck and settled into an Indian style position on the bed next to her. His muscular thigh touched hers as she knelt there on the bed hugging a pillow. 

"Well… get on with it?" he said.

"You said YOU would help me!" she snorted. "Unless you want to WATCH… you ecchi…"

"Show me what you'd do first, and then I'll correct you," he said with a grin.

"Oh you ass!" she snorted. "Just for that…"

"Show me how you address this 'craving' you posesses! I command you to do so NOW!" Vegeta snapped at her.

Nervously Bulma lay back. Sweat beaded on her skin, and she slowly slid her shorts down. Extending her feet over the bed, she kicked her sneakers off, and let them thump to the floor. She flushed in frustration because she was increasingly uncomfortable and wanted so desperately to quench the tingling that being around him was causing.

"That's it, wench, show me what you do up here when I'm not looking," he mumbled, watching with a strange fascination.

"Well it's HARD to… well… just DO it… when…?"

"Your underwear is already soaked, and your pupils are dilated… you're in heat so get on with it…" he grumbled.

"I… can't do it I'm not able to get in the mood, all right?" she whispered in frustration.

"Poor silly little thing, I suppose I'll have to assist you after all…" he laughed, leaning down over her.

"Now what the HELL would YOU know about pleasing a woman, jackass? I'm not some slut on a pleasure ship…"

"Is the right point… here perhaps? Will pressure here create the 'mood' to help assist in saiting this 'craving'?" he asked, reaching a gloved hand along the inner surface of her thigh.

"Wait…" she gasped. Leaning forwards, Vegeta probed around to find where her fingers were. A frustrated shout from Bulma was cut off with a snort.

"Shut up. I need to get rid of this if I'm going to find out what the hell you're doing…" he mumbled. Lying on his side he snorted and struggled to move her hand aside so he could feel.

"Dammit woman, where do I touch you if you don't show me?" he snorted.

"I… I'm ticklish," she gasped, slowly laying back. Vegeta crouched over her, still wearing his blue spandex suit, devoid of armor. Moisture of her sweat seeped through his glove to saturate it.

"You'd be surprised what one knows when you apply the proper chikara… to the right areas of the body," Vegeta said, lowering his voice to a silky smooth purr. Bulma gasped, glancing up at him as he leaned over, and reached a gloved hand to touch the curve her chest with his other hand.

"Here... give me your hand…" she said. She grabbed his wrist, and nodded, shivering at the pressure of his strong fingers where she most wanted them.

"Here? Does this cause pleasure to you?" he urged, pressing ever harder as he got caught up in the motion of her body.

"Vegeta don't stop," she huffed, whimpering as she felt spasms of heat spreading all over her.

"What else must I do? Are you still hungering?" he mumbled, still gliding his gloved hands all over her body in a precise exploration.

"Touch me… here…" she whispered, pointing to her chest. He slid his other hand overtop, watching how she did so and duplicating it with his other hand.

"I can't work with this damn cloth in the way," he mumbled, reaching down and tearing the shirt neatly with his strength alone. Bulma groaned as her capsule corps baby doll T was in tatters, baring her bra to him.

"Take the bra off," she ordered. Leaning over, hot breath blasted her as he reached around to unsnap the hooks and tear it away. Now freed he examined her beautiful body. The texture of his gloved hand dragged over her now bare skin, stimulating in a very odd way.

"Bizarre," Vegeta grunted, feeling the object in question. Removing his hands from where they were, he slid both overtop to lightly squeeze her breasts in his large hands. Bulma sighed, lying on her back as he moved over to kneel beside her hips.

"Please …" she groaned, dark lashed eyes closed, tossing her head.

"Humph impatient girl," he snorted as he reached over and drew a gloved hand over her arm, and then down with a slow glide over the curve of one breast. Before she knew it, he had knelt between her legs. Her whole body shuddered, and a burst of ki seemed to spike up to a high level before him. She was breathing harder and harder as if she was frightened.

* * *

"Woman, are you… all right?" he panted, sweat saturating his shirt and pants. 

"Oh yes," she gasped, blinking up at him with a smile. Slowly she leaned up, and grasped the front of his shirt. He glanced at her with a question in his eyes; more fascinated then able to insult her.

"About time you stopped being such a cranky bitch," he nodded in satisfaction.

"If I wasn't so happy right now I'd bop you," she sighed, tugging at his wrist. "It's been ages since anyone has touched me like that... you're a natural..."

"You wouldn't dare," he smirked, giving her that self satisfied look that she found particularly endearing at that moment.

"C'mere your Majesty," she said.

"Where can I go from here?" he snorted.

"Down here," she urged, tugging at his shirtfront. Vegeta leaned close, snorting with annoyance.

"Nani? What the hell do you want now?" he asked.

"How about a kiss, your Majesty, for a reward for all your hard dilligent work?" she asked.

"That face sucking ritual is considered a 'reward'? Disgusting," he grumbled, but remained there so she could lean up and brush her lips over his. Sliding her knee down his muscular arm, she pushed herself up on an elbow so she could catch the side of his face and angle her face to the side. Using his muscular arm braced on either side of his knees, she leered herself up so she was sitting right in front of him.

Delicately she slid her fingers along the spandex covering his hard muscles. He flinched, drawing his face away as he glanced at her with a frown. Before he could say anything else, she covered his protests with another kiss, lapping at his lips with her tongue. Between his knees she slid her hand, while locking her other arm around behind his neck.

Vegeta felt her fingers roaming over his shoulders. A low groan echoed in their merged mouths as he opened and allowed her tongue access. Of course she was trying to return the favor; he nodded with a grunt of satisfaction. So he lay back, puling her with him so she landed on top his hard body. Tentatively he moved his tongue along hers, awkwardly returning the kiss she rated so highly. Although his kiss was awkward and clumsy, she felt a wave of fire slam through her.

"Wow, you'er a quick study," she mumbled.

"I suppose this ritual is... tolerable," he mumbled, glancing up at her with dark eyes that were piercing, haunting, and calling to her.

"Ungrateful jackass, let show you a thing or two about how fun it can be, okay?" she smiled with a strange fondness as he let the tension go.

"Proceed," Vegeta grunted, laying back as if he were not involved.

"I'm not going to do ALL the work, silly," she said, straddling him. Running her fingers along his chiseled ribs and hard muscles, she slid her fingers under his shirt. He lifted his arms, allowing her to peel off his top. A slow gasp came over her as she ran sensitive fingernails over the landscape of jagged scars that were discernable in places. A low rumbling like a great cat emanated from his throat, and he hissed in pleasure as she moved back and caressed his powerful muscular body.

"Adequate," he mumbled, docile like a sleeping giant.

"Now it's my turn," Bulma said, leaning down to merge her lips with his.

"Mmmph," he grunted, and she released his lips.

"What, you all right?" she asked.

"Do get on with it, brat, I am anxious to learn as much as I can. I don't like it when someone ELSE presumes they know more then I do!" he gasped.

"Impatient, aren't we. Looks like I'm not the only spoiled brat here," she teased.

"Stop saying asinine things and reciprocate if you're so inclined," he grunted in frustration.

"Yes your Whyness, your wish is my command," she giggled. So saying she leaned close to his ear and deposited a kiss right before the cheek where his skin was soft. Smell and taste were somewhat different from Yamucha and other males she'd 'made out' with. Yet the musky scent wafting in her nose from his sweating hard body was irresistibly male. He sat up, nudging her off of him.

"What? Didn't you like it?" she pouted.

"Don't ask stupid questions. Move back," he mumbled, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed so he could remove his boots. They thumped to the floor next to her discarded sneakers, shorts, and shredded garments. Insistently she leaned over to rest her hands lightly on his bared back, reassuring him that she did indeed want to return the favor. Two hours ago all she wanted was to kick his royal backside in frustration. Now she wanted to show him how well she could please him. What did she have to prove? Anything? His still gloved hands grabbed hers, guiding them to help him take off his spandex workout clothes. She chuckledwith surprise at his sudden haste, then realized the stern look in his dark eyes would brook no opposition.

"Um… okay…." She nodded. Shimmying his hips Vegeta slid out of his skintight pants like a snake shedding its skin. Only his gloves and the workout shorts were left.

"Shimatta," she got out.

"How interesting, you're actually at a loss for words," he laughed, noticing her blue eyes widening at the sight of his entire chest revealed to her.

"Shimatta…" she whispered, visually caressing those hard muscular angles with her blue vision.

"Well, are you going to gawk at my perfection or are you going to reciprocate, girl?" he asked impatiently. "Got nothing witty to say, ne?"

Anger sparked her eyes. "I... I'll show you," she breathed, rolling over to scoot up alongside where he lay with his head propped up on a bent elbow. Sliding her fingers down his smooth chest, she massaged tanned flesh. Vegeta snickered to see the blush spread from her cheeks to her mid chest, then all over her pale white skin. His eyes closed shut at the contact of her fingers. She glanced up at him, noticing the dark brows furrowed in unabashed pleasure. He seemed to be concentrating hard on the entire sensation, drinking each movement in. A bluish glow seemed to sparkle and crackle her hair, causing shivers over her spine. Vegeta's dark eyes were bottomless, showing no reflection while they stared down at her.

"Finish what you started, Bulma," he whispered. She started; amazed he spoke her name.

"I plan on it, if you'd stop interrupting me," she said with a chuckle, drinking in the cool royal blue chikara crackling over his body. It was faint, but it spread to cover her flesh as well.

"Come here, woman," he growled, reaching for her. "Enough teasing. It's obviously going to take a hell of a lot more of my expertise to address your problem…"

"What problem?" she snorted. A gloved hand pressed her down into the bed as he parted her legs with his knee. Blue energies surged and crackled all over her body, filling it with royal blue chikara along every square inch of her skin. The aura of power encompassed them both, warming her shivering skin, permeating every cell.

"Take it in, woman. Don't refuse it," Vegeta growled, voice commanding, daring her not to disobey. Swallowing hard, she reached up to finger his chest.

"So much… I don't think I can do it. What are you doing to me, Vegeta?" she gasped, surging with far more power than she thought was humanly possible.

"Simple. You're far too puny to continue in your present state, woman," he purred deeply, grasping her hips and pulling them onto his knees. "I don't want to break your weak body with what I'm about to do…"

"Knock it off with the weak crap!" she snapped angrily up at him. "I can take ANYTHING you can dish out!"

"Infernal woman, you really don't know when to keep your mouth shut," he clicked his tongue. Grasping his wrists she dug her fingernails into them then tried to lean up towards him. Yet he pressed her down with a gloved hand.

"Kuso…" she shivered.

"Say no now, or else… there's no going back," he growled into her neck.

"Finish what you started, your Majesty," she growled into his ear, aching for more of his addictive blue energies.

A jolt of realization and sudden elation filled her. Bracing her hands at her sides, she spread herself open to receive him, not questioning why she was letting this being mold himself to her. All she knew that moment was that he would fill a hunger that she had long wished to satiate. A once puny ki sang with orders of magnitude more energy then she had ever experienced, stepping it up to a level she could contain. Soft flesh molded to hard muscle, and she became part of the chikara supernova. Squeezing open an eye she saw Vegeta's spiked hair standing on end with indigo flames, while her own curly mass seemed to stand straight on end.

A momentary burst of fear spread through her. It dawned on her the next second that she had forgotten everything except the name of the Saiyan no Ouji who had just swamped her with a mind numbing ki to top all other highs of her life.

* * *


	5. Fun with Royal Blue Ki

**A Taste of Heat **

By Trynia Merin

_Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z, Bulma or Vegeta or any of the characters here. Toriyama and Funimation and Toei Animation Co Ltd. Owns them. This is a work of fan fiction and is not meant to harm the series. I only own Shandi Seltzer. _

Rated M for adult situations and language, LEMON in other words.

_**Fun with Royal Blue Ki**_

* * *

Much later in solid arms she shivered and whimpered his name. Vegeta bound her to his body possessively, rolling on his side to tangle his muscular thighs in hers. Her arms were trapped around his neck. Against her cheek his hot breath panted. Both their hearts pounded with a marathon thump. Only the sound of his breath and the blood pumping in her ears in a mad rush could be heard. A male chest rose and fell against hers. 

Vegeta heard a tinkle of high-pitched laughter echoing with staggering footsteps. A feminine voice called out a name, before it was hushed out. "Yami…"

"Shh baby… I don't think she's home… we'd better keep it down…" whispered a familiar voice.

"Nani?" Vegeta mumbled, lifting his head from the pillow. Twisted and tangled with the woman, he was resting comfortably till that baka had aroused him.

A few more footsteps vibrated the floor, stopping somewhere down the hall. A goofy laugh echoed, followed by a low moaning contact of flesh on flesh. Small sucking and smacking sounds indicated what two beings were up to. Smugly Vegeta gathered Bulma closer to him, listening to the couple speaking in hushed whispers.

"Are you SURE we won't be disturbed here, Yami baby?" the girl tittered.

"That's the fun. You don't know WHO might come in when…" Yamcha laughed, slurring a bit. There came a clink as something glass dropped from his hand, and a thump as a body landed against a wall. Keys clicked in a lock, and then a small electronic whiz preceded a hissing whoosh of a sliding door. Another loud thump told him that Yamcha had collapsed headlong on the floor of his room with his arms full of woman.

"Mmm, what the heck is that?" Bulma mumbled, stirring in his arms.

"Go back to sleep woman," Vegeta mumbled, kissing her forehead.

"I thought I heard something," she mumbled, blinking up at him.

"Nothing of importance," Vegeta said, pulling her into his arms again. "Go to sleep."

She yawned, then blinked across at the face resting next to hers on the pillow. It was still dim, and she could swear she heard Yamcha laughing somewhere down the hall. What followed it jolted her out of sleep. It was a girl's high pitched scream that echoed in the halls.

"Nani… what the…" she blinked, jerking against the muscular arms that held her down against a hard body.

"Stupid clown, can't he shut up," a rough voice grated next to her.Yamcha's groans nextdoor caused her to flush with utter embarrassment.

"I'm going to kill him," she grumbled, squirming against her companion.

"Let me," Vegeta answered. Bulma jolted more completely awake, giving a started gasp as she saw who she was in bed with.

"Uh… be my guest," she said, sitting up as Vegeta released her. He gave her a smirk, which made her want to smack him at that moment.

"I do as I please, woman," he snorted mildly. "Besides, I'm not finished here…"

"Oh really?" she asked, surprised as he brushed a lock of hair out of her sweaty face.

"You're just about to say something utterly stupid that will make you seem like an idiot. I can't have THAT can I? Not after all my hard work," he taunted her.

"Baka…" she got out before he grabbed her with a gloved hand and pulled her down for a kiss. It effectively silenced her.

"Well, do you have any complaints now?" he asked.

"Awesome, you really ARE learning something," she whispered.

"But of course," he said, voice thick with sated desire. "What did you expect? A sub standard technique. I learn things quickly…"

"Vegeta… shut up…" she whispered.

"Make me," he snickered. Bulma leaned forwards and captured his mouth in a delicious kiss. Moaning softly she tasted herself yet again in his spicy flavor rolling over both their tongues.

* * *

For a time their tongues tasted one another, and their breaths mingled. Sharp teeth lightly nipped her tongue, before continuing to move in small circles. It seemed she couldn't get enough of his taste, touch, and smell. Now she knew she was hooked for life. That blue heat was the only thing that could warm her, and she had a taste of it. After this, she wanted as much as she could, even if it meant she might be burned by it. Vegeta enjoyed the taste of the woman's saliva. He growled into a purr, pressing her flat under his body. It was obvious he wanted her again. 

"Perfect timing wouldn't you say?" he said, voice deep and hoarse with his own desire. "I want you again… and I won't take no for an answer…"

"How can I refuse the Saiyan no Ouji's command," she gasped, wincing at how cheesy it sounded.

However Vegeta seemed pleased because he nipped her lip and mumbled, "Good girl."

"Mmm, I can't wait…" she laughed, leaning up to kiss him again. He grunted through the kiss, laying on top of her with his full weight pressing down. Bulma let him do so, enjoying the feel of his body crushing her to the mattress. In reality he wasn't all that enormous. Muscular and compact, still heavy, yet comfortable without crushing her. Perhaps he weighted two hundred pounds tops, and it was all solid muscle and dense bones adapted to ten times earth gravity.

"Shimatta," Vegeta cursed, lifting his head and removing his lips from hers.

"What?" she asked, panting deeply with half shut eyes.

"Damn loser can't keep his mouth shut," Vegeta cursed, hearing giggling and loud gasps from next door.

Bulma began to laugh loudly. Although she tried to stifle it, Vegeta whispered encouragement. "Why not make as much noise as he is? After all, it's your house, isn't it?"

"You'd never admit THAT before," she groaned. He rolled her over so she could be astride his hips, and lean down with her hands braced on his chest. Sobbing she shuddered spasmodically, feeling the blue lightening crackling in his hair.

"Vegeta… what's happening…" she moaned, shuddering as his aura flared around her. Blue hair stood on end, her eyes glowing a bright white hot blue as Vegeta tugged his gloves off and threw them down.

"Go with it," he growled, bracing himself on his elbows and then reaching up to thread her fingers through him. His loud snarl blended into Saiyan tongue, muttering oaths that were intertwined with things she recalled him saying in the Gravity Chamber when he was angry. Savagely he raked her shoulder with his teeth, causing her to scream and cry.

"Why did you do that?" she sobbed, pulling away.

"Because I like you, my silly little idiot," he grumbled, licking his lips. Blood coagulated, leaving a nasty bite mark the side and shape of his teeth on her shoulder.

"You WHAT?" she asked.

"It's nothing! Never you mind!" Vegeta snapped, flushing with embarrassment. Bulma saw his face bright red, and giggled at the awkward glance he gave her with those bottomless eyes. Rolling over, he untangled himself from her and turned her over so she was pressed with her back to his front. Around her chest he hugged her tightly to himself.

"What the heck did you do… that's going to leave a NASTY mark…?"

"So? You enjoyed what happened before it did you not?" he snorted, reaching for his robe.

"It's okay… I'm sorry, I'll shut up now," Bulma shivered.

"Good. See that you do. We'll both require nourishment after this, after we rest a moment," Vegeta mumbled into her neck. He drew his nose over it, and crushed her close to his sweaty body. Her heart pounded with nervousness at what it all meant, but then she realized it must have been yet another diversion. For a moment she choked, and then Vegeta felt the tension.

"Relax, girl, we shall shower first. I'm not entirely finished yet… far from it," he growled, giving her backside a swat.

"I hope to hell not bud," she gasped, stumbling as he pushed her out of bed. "HEY!"

"Up with you, girl, and get the shower and drying cloths ready," he urged. He threw her a large T shirt, then pulled his royal blue robe around his body, tying the belt. Bulma stumbled but was steadied a moment later by his hand.

"Humph I suppose you'll require MY help, then?" he teased her.

"Shut up jerk," she growled back, but Vegeta smirked in response.

"Come on woman, into the shower with you!" he barked, grabbing her up effortlessly and swinging her over his shoulder. A few sharp slaps to her behind and Bulma was speechless and unable to think straight.

* * *

"Well, turn it on will you?" he said, sliding into the huge glass walled shower stall behind her. Bulma adjusted the water to something she liked. Having him this close was making her hot and nervous, unable to form coherent thoughts. Scars traced over his back and chest, and she found it difficult to tear her eyes away. 

Vegeta didn't seem to mind, for he grabbed several bottles and snorted, handing the least floral scented towards her. "Don't just sit there gawking woman, wash my hair…"

"Your wish is my command, master," she snorted indignantly. "Damn you're so fucking demanding!"

"Do as you're told, or you'll get another scolding," he snickered. Bulma snorted and lathered her hands with soap, plunging them into his hair as he tipped his head back. He remained stiffly at attention, rocking his head to allow her to touch him. A few suds cascaded down his back, running overtop the scar where his tail had once been. She began to lather up a scrub brush to chase them away.

"Continue," Vegeta said in a hoarse grunt. Snorting outwardly, she was thrilled he was letting her touch him in such a manner. Up and down his spine she scrubbed, and then diverged around to his chest. He remained rigid, grunting in assent that he was satisfied with her progress. Still shakily she stumbled and landed against his back. Vegeta turned in her arms and sat her down on the ledge again. Grumbling he grabbed the soap and began to wash her body in term.

"Um… thanks…" she said, at a loss for words. He grunted an intelligible reply, daring her not to speak. Whatever she was going to say she bit her tongue, seeing his warning stern glance. Then he lathered his hands with her favorite shampoo to wash her hair. She closed her eyes and let him scrub with firm strokes, laying her face in his shoulder.

Bruises marked her hips and that awful bite mark graced her whole right shoulder. Strangely she didn't feel bad at all. In fact she felt far better then she had in years. Apart from the tingle of his invasion, she was soon able to stand on shaky legs to help him finish his own bath. Vegeta was the first to step out, and he threw her a towel. Wordlessly she started to dry his back. He gave an impatient grunt and grabbed her arms.

"Hey watch it bud!" she yelled.

"Shut up and stay still girl," he grunted. She saw his dark eyes fix her in a commanding stare she dared not disobey, and swallowed hard. Breath hissed in and out, and a crackle of power blistered through them both. In seconds all the water had evaporated, leaving them pleasantly dry.

"Kuso…" she whispered, feeling her hair. "How do you do that?"

"Very carefully," he grunted. "A tiny fraction of what it would take to kill you or a human…"

* * *

"Go down and make us some breakfast, woman," said Vegeta, pulling her close. She gasped as he held the lapels of her robe, and sealed her lips with his. Groaning she felt him turning his head in slight half circles to duplicate the kiss she had shown him yesterday. Her surprised yelp was captured in a chuckle against her mouth. Immersing fingers in his hair, she turned her face to the side and returned the heated kiss. Then he released her, with a devilish grin, "Breakfast, now, woman…" 

"You ass!" she snorted, but yelped at his playful stinging slap on her backside.

"Now… you don't want me to punish you do you, girl?" Vegeta laughed. "I'm going to get a change of clothes and I'll meet you down there. Don't disappoint me…"

"What do you want?" she asked, throwing him one of her robes. He tied it around his waist, guessing he could temporarily put up with a purple robe flecked with stars. At least it was terrycloth.

"Those things your mother calls pancakes, and extra protein. Mind that you don't forget to eat some yourself. I won't have you eating that fucking bird food," he snorted.

"Sure thing," she nodded, feeling strangely compliant. After all, the Saiyan no Ouji had given her the best sex she'd had since… well the best ever. In twelve hours he had blown all her previous experiences to oblivion. She dared not ask what this all meant, because she was afraid to question it.

"I will be waiting, girl," he said, walking quickly out of the door before her. Bulma staggered out the door, and down the stairs. Vegeta was soon gone in a flash of purple. Grumbling she grabbed his workout clothes and dropped them into the laundry chute. Then she slid the door shut, and made her way downstairs.

Yamcha yawned, seeing Shandi wearing his borrowed boxers and a long Taitans T-shirt. She giggled, frying up a mess of bacon while he grabbed a carton of milk. In two gulps he drained it, and chuckled. "So, you live here?" Shandi asked, pushing purple hair out of her face.

"Yep. It's sort of till I get on season again," Yamcha said, pushing his black hair out of his eyes. "Oh damn… I forgot… I have a load of laundry in the wash room…"

"I'll help you do it. I'm sure the cinnamon buns will keep… and the coffee should be done by then," said Shandi. Yamcha swept her up and carried her away. Just as they exited, Bulma entered from the back stairs. She blinked to see coffee brewing in the coffee maker, and smelled cinnamon.

"I wonder if Vegeta decided to do something for ME for a change," she blinked, then grabbed the pancake mix out of the cabinet. Early on she found that mixes were the best way to go, so she could make passable food. Quickly she whipped up batter, and saw the frying pan was already out. A thought occurred to her that perhaps Yamcha had sneaked down.

"Dork," she mumbled, realizing that he might well be in the next room. Quickly she threw down some bacon, and began to line up plates she whisked out of the closet. Each one she loaded with an abundance of bacon, while she poured batter for pancakes. Then she tossed toast into the eight slot industrial toastmaster. When it came to cooking for Vegeta bulk was the way to go. This time she felt a certain warm fondness for making his majesty's breakfast because she hoped he'd realize how much she'd enjoyed their little adventure the night before.

* * *

Vegeta's place was set directly by the stove in the breakfast nook. She set herself a place next to him, and heard footsteps of someone coming up the stairs. 

"Uh… hi…" said the owner, looking sheepishly at her.

"Good morning…" Bulma said politely to the young purple haired girl. "Breakfast?"

"Er… hi… um sorry to impose… we just um…"

"Relax and sit down, I assume the cinnamon rolls are yours?" Bulma said as sweetly as she could. She took them out and began to fuss with putting them in a basket. Shandi blinked, then rushed to help her.

"Oh it's not a problem is it?" she asked sweetly in return.

"I didn't get your name…"

"I'm Shandi. Shandi Seltzer…" said the girl, with a high pitched giggle that annoyed Bulma already.

"Bulma Briefs," said Bulma, shaking her hand. "Good to meet you…"

"Sorry to drop in… unexpected…" she said.

"Oh no, there's plenty of room," said Bulma pointedly as Yamcha padded in. He saw that she had a sweet smile on her face, and blinked in a mixture of surprise and wariness.

"Um hi Hon… I hope you didn't mind…"

"Why should I mind?" she asked, setting Vegeta's place next to her own. "I mean we both bring people here all the time. Do I look like I mind? Why should I mind anything?"

"Well, I know it was unexpected… I guess you two have already met," Yamcha said, nervous because Bulma had such a sickeningly sweet smile plastered on her face. It bothered him she wasn't even yelling at him in the slightest.

"Yep. You guys don't have to leave. I was just about to eat myself," said Bulma, pouring coffee for the two before they could protest. "Sit down… don't be rude… She's a guest… you never had manners Yamcha, honestly!"

"Er… um… thanks… but I don't' want to be any problem," Yamcha said awkwardly. "I mean we can eat in our room…"

"No, let's allege to KNOW one another," Bulma said with a saccharine smile that spooked Yamcha and amused Shandi. They both sat down, blinking in shock at one another. Bulma gave a secret smirk as she finished fixing Vegeta's portions.

"Um… wow what a lot of food," Shandi blinked, setting down some sweet rolls for herself and Yamcha. He wore a pair of plaid pajama pants, leaving his chest gloriously bare. Bulma noticed she was wearing Yamcha's boxers and t-shirt, the same one that she had given back to him.

"Bulma, don't tell me HE'S here…" Yamcha whispered.

"Depends, on who you mean," said Bulma, putting the genuine Vermont syrup before him. Yamcha poured milk and sugar into his coffee then took a bite of his cinnamon bun. A bit of icing fell off and Shandi leaned over to wipe it off with her finger. Bulma promptly ignored them, hearing her giggle. Yamcha warily watched her, then leaned over to lick a bit of the cinnamon off of Shandi's fingers.

"Ohh that tickles," Shandi grinned. The toaster bell went off, and she threw more slices in after filling a toast rack and placing it on the loaded table.

"Hmm, fresh icing…" Yamcha said, caught up with tearing a cinnamon roll apart and popping a bit into his date's mouth. He glanced at Bulma's back, but she was singing off key to herself and totally ignoring them.

"I thought you said she'd blow a fit… but she's nice," said Shandi.

"Too nice," said Yamcha.

"Aren't you two… broken up?"

"We're seeing other people sort of. But she looks… happy. I'm a bit… worried…" Yamcha said.

"Maybe SHE got some," Shandi giggled.

"You have no idea," Bulma grinned to herself. Turning around she sat down at the table to look at the two sitting there. Yamcha had his hand on top of Shandi's and she was eating off the same plate he was.

"So… nice morning, huh?" Yamcha said.

"Oh, it's fine," said Bulma. "You had fun, I take it?"

"Yeah… we did… um… well… till the other couple got drunk and threw up in…" Yamcha started. "Oops sorry…"

"It was SO funny when Ami threw the drink in Kazi's lap… and then they sang that awful karioke…"

"What the hells that annoying noise?" someone's voice grated.

"Hold your damn horses, I made your breakfast… So do us a favor and sit down and eat…" Bulma interrupted him.

* * *


	6. Breakfast with the chumps

**A Taste of Heat **

By Trynia Merin

_Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z, Bulma or Vegeta or any of the characters here. Toriyama and Funimation and Toei Animation Co Ltd. Owns them. This is a work of fan fiction and is not meant to harm the series. I only own Shandi Seltzer, a fan fiction character._

Rated M for adult situations and language.

_**Breakfast With the Chumps**_

* * *

Yamcha flinched to see Vegeta striding regally in, and taking his chair at the table. 

"What are YOU looking at?" Vegeta snorted at Shandi and Yamcha. "Mind your own damn business…"

"Um… good morning, Vegeta… fancy seeing you here," Yamcha said as politely as he could.

"Whatever. Just shut up and let me eat in peace," Vegeta grunted at him. Drowning his pancakes in syrup he began to put away the first plate of food Bulma had prepared. She sat down to his left, quietly starting her own stack.

"This is… unusual… don't you usually train this time of…" Yamcha said.

"None of your business, clown," said Vegeta rudely. "Where the hell is the butter, girl?"

"Here your Crankiness," Bulma said, pushing it before him. "You should try something called COFFEE… it works MIRACLES…"

"Feh, whatever… I suppose it couldn't be any WORSE then the rest of this shit you call food," he mumbled, picking up the mug she'd given him and swigging part of it down.

"That's not… very polite…" Yamcha winced. "She does cook hard for…"

"I don't need your approval, bud," Bulma said to Yamcha, then dumped sweetener in her own coffee. Vegeta continued to put away breakfast, glaring annoyed at Yamcha and his date.

"I don't believe I've met you sir… but I'm Shandi… Shandi…"

"Humph, and I should care why?" Vegeta mumbled through a mouthful of food.

"I'm sorry if I'm," Shandi said.

"Why the hell are you apologizing for, and stop STARING at me," Vegeta snorted at Shandi.

"Well, there's no need to be a grouch I'm only being polite." she huffed.

"Do us a favor and knock it off. I'm trying to eat here…" Vegeta answered.

"Now just a damn minute!" Yamcha started.

"BOYS, no fighting in MY house!" Bulma shouted, clapping her hands. "Let's all be CIVIL… I don't want to make anyone SICK here. Let's just eat and have some peace and quiet ok?"

"You liking peace and quiet? That's funny," Yamcha commented, scarfing down another cinnamon roll. Shandi held up her hand to refuse another.

"Oh no, I'm on a diet…"

"Who cares," Vegeta mumbled. Bulma rolled her eyes dramatically and shoved a third food plate before him.

"Vegeta, you could at least TRY to be polite to her!" Yamcha sniffed. "I mean she's done NOTHING to you…"

"Why should I give a shit who you bring here?" Vegeta answered. "It's none of my damn business, so mind yours and leave me the hell alone!"

"Excuse the hell me!" Yamcha snorted.

"Guys, I'm not telling you again! Behave!" Bulma snapped. "Vegeta, you ignore him, and Yamcha, maybe it WOULD be better if you eat elsewhere…"

"It's your damn kitchen, so why the blazes not?" Vegeta answered.

"I um… think we'd better… go up to our room," said Shandi, nudging Yamcha. "Sorry to um… bother you… er…"

"You'll address me by my proper title, fools..." he answered. "Prince Vegeta of All Saiyans..."

"Uh... I've never heard of THAT country?" Shandi gasped.

"Obviously she's not the brightest crayon in the box, is she?" Vegeta whispered to Bulma.

"Nope, even though her hair looks like something out of a 64 pack of Crayolas..."

"Excuse us," Yamcha sniffed. "Obviously we're not welcome here…"

"Later," Bulma said. "Don't forget to change the sheets on the bed before you go…"

"WHAT?" Yamcha asked, flaring red. "Bulma!"

"They get REALLY ripe after a month of not changing them. And I'm NOT your personal maid service! If you're going to live here, then pull your weight for a change!"

"I ALWAYS do my laundry!" Yamcha spluttered.

"Yami… come on!" Shandi urged, grabbing his arm and tugging him away. "I think we should just leave them… alone…"

"THEM?" Yamcha spluttered.

"Come on, will you! I don't like the look that guy's giving us…" Shandi urged, dragging a protesting Yamcha out by his hand.

* * *

"Finally peace and freaking quiet," Vegeta mumbled, shoving his coffee cup towards her. She silently poured him more, and sighed dramatically. 

"Stupid air head," Bulma mumbled, shaking her head. "Hope they're happy together."

"Give it a month and we'll see," Vegeta responded. "I don't know why you insist on letting him remain here… I mean what does he DO?"

"I could ask you the same thing. But at least you're doing something USEFUL," Bulma said, watching for his reaction.

"Took you long enough to figure that out," Vegeta answered with a smirk.

"Still, he DOES pay rent," said Bulma quietly.

"I'm surprised. This doesn't look like a blasted hotel…" said Vegeta. "But I suppose every Royal household needs a court jester…"

"Ha hah," Bulma stuck her tongue out at him. She felt his hand grip her wrist, and gently pull her over.

"You've got something on your mouth, you silly girl," he mumbled, and leaned over to drag a bit of syrup off her lips. He carefully licked his finger, causing Bulma's temperature to rise a few degrees.

"You're a slob too, bud," she said, reaching over to lick a bit of syrup off his face. He stiffened momentarily, then let her without pushing her away.

"Baka," he mumbled, as she licked his cheek. Dark black eyes looked at cobalt blue, and Vegeta's hands moved quickly. Soon she was sitting across his knees while he nipped her ear. With a gasp she was pressed to his muscular chest, his lips moving over hers to taste the syrup from them.

"Hey, where did THAT come from… I thought you didn't like PDAs…" she gasped, worrying that she was going to spoil whatever lapse of reason came over him. He lifted her hips, then set her so she straddled his boxer shorts clad body. Bulma felt something hard pressing, and repositioned herself so she pressed her crotch against his obvious erection.

"Who said anyone was watching, woman?" he growled into her ear. "I'm still hungry…"

"But not for food?" she winked.

"Hmm," he murmured, grabbing her chin and angling her face towards his. Bulma laughed, and chuckled as he reached into her robe with his free hand and squeezed her breast lightly. Their lips met, tongues sliding past one another. Vegeta groaned urgently, sliding his fingers into her robe to caress her. Bulma did the same, stroking his body skillfully so he felt a tingling fire rapidly growing.

"I was waiting for that damn clown and his trollop to leave, because I smelled that same smell again… as before…" Vegeta said hoarsely into her ear.

"You mean you want to… again?" she gasped. Vegeta snarled, grabbing her robe and ripping it open. She laughed with surprise and joy as he buried his face between her breasts and grabbed her hips with his hands.

"Do I look like someone who takes such things lightly?" he snorted.

"Nani?" she asked as he stood up, and wrapped her legs around his slender hips.. "But… I thought… I…"

"Accompany me to my chambers at once, and I'll show you some more discipline for doubting me…" he purred, biting her earlobe between his teeth.

"Vegeta… are you…"

"No words, just come with me woman," he growled, slapping her backside again. "Before I lose my patience with you!"

"Lead on… but what about the dishes?" she gasped as he levitated off the floor.

"Leave them for the loser to clean up. I'm going to be busy, and so will you," Vegeta said with a diabolical grin.

* * *

Bulma held onto his with her arms and legs twined around his hard muscular body. In a streak of blue ki Vegeta rocketed out of the kitchen and the back door of capsule. Laughing Bulma let a tense knot release itself as he flew her towards his quarters, across the front lawn of capsule. A small guest wing was where the GR was set up, and a nice guest bungalow that they had erected. 

Vegeta carried Bulma around his hips towards the place he had inhabited next to Capsule 3. She held tightly to his torso while he rocketed through across the yard at blinding speed. An insane resolve burned through both to continue what they'd set in motion the day before. Just what day it was neither cared.

"Hold on if you know what's good for you, Bulma," Vegeta snickered.

"You JERK!" she yowled, catching him around the neck in a death grip. "Now you remember my name?"

"Your place first, now mine," Vegeta said with a flourish. The Prince came to an abrupt stop, holding a very horny Bulma trembling with the need for release. A release only he could provide. Desperately gasped when she realized she was in clear view of the house.

"Oh you bakaryarou! I'm… what if someone SEES me like this!" she berated him, pummeling him on the chest. Instead of going through the house, Vegeta had cut across the vast lawn towards the bungalow.

"Why do you think I FLEW here, genius," Vegeta snickered. She pushed him away.

"I can't believe it…" Yamcha whispered in disbelief, glancing down from the balcony of his room. Shandi laughed and pointed down at them, causing Bulma to squeal.

"Ohh I'm going to GET you for that!" she shrieked, turning her head. Gathering the halves of her robe around her, she realized to her horror that Yamcha was getting an eyeful of her with Vegeta in a compromising embrace.

"Why so shy, woman. Someone would think you had something worth hiding?" he teased. Then he glanced past her hair to see they had spectators. Vegeta scooped her up in his arms, locking her front to his sweaty chest with a pair of gloved hands.

"Bastard!" she screamed. "Someone's STARING at us!"

"What the DEVIL do you think you're looking at, dumb ass! Mind your own Dende damned business you reject!" Vegeta yelled up, turning with his back to Yamcha and Shandi gaping at the couple. Bulma shivered in extreme discomfort as Vegeta blocked Yamcha's view of her in her nightgown with his broad chest and muscular back.

"Holy HELL he's… built," gasped Shandi, drooling at the sight of the Prince's muscular form clad only in a pair of black boxer shorts.

"Shandi! HEY stop STARING!" Yamcha yelped, grabbing her and clapping his eyes over her face.

"Like what you see, you little trollop?" Vegeta snickered, leering at her.

"Meow, what an ass," Shandi gasped. "He'd be a natural for Chippendales, although his legs are a bit short..."

"Shandi honey, don't look at him like that it's RUDE to stare!" Yamcha groaned.

"Vegeta, what the HELL Are you doing?" Bulma growled, burying her flushed face in his neck. "I'm so gonna kill you!"

"Go get your cheap thrills someplace else, you loser! This isn't Idsarsei 7!" Vegeta taunted Yamcha who was burning with jealousy. Raising his palm he generated a ball of ki that crackled ominously. Shandi squealed in fear, pointing to Yamcha.

"What's he doing... how can he... that's... like lightening!" she screamed.

"I mean it. BEAT it, or else I rid this house of one more waste of skin!" Vegeta yelled. "You haven't seen anything, and you'd better turn and look the other way while you're still lucky enough to BREATHE! I don't like people prying their noses into my personal business so SCRAM!"

"YIEEE! We're not here! We never saw you!" Yamcha gasped, grabbing his girlfriend and zipping back into the house.

"Oh god I'm NOT here…" Bulma whimpered, flushing with embarrassment.

* * *

"Humph, stupid weaklings," Vegeta snorted, carrying an extremely mortified Bulma in his arms. He let the door slam behind him. 

"I'm NOT here. That did JUST not happen…" Bulma groaned.

"Some idiots don't know to mind their own business. Now where we were before we were so rudely interrupted Woman?" Vegeta asked.

"Put me down you pervert!" she snapped, beating on his back.

"Ungrateful brat, that's the thanks I get for protecting your virtue. For shame!" Vegeta scolded, throwing her onto the expanse of the generous queen sized bed as he walked into the bedroom of his bungalow. Angrily Bulma gathered the sheets around her, trying to shield herself from him.

"You're gonna GET it for that, bud! I'm NOT going to be with someone that has such a sick sense of humor! You WANTED to have Yamcha see me! Just to get BACK at him…"

"What are you babbling about, Woman?" Vegeta snorted, turning to her with a look of extreme annoyance.

"I bet you planned the whole thing…"

"Bulma, shut up and come here," Vegeta snorted, crawling onto the bed and inching his way towards her.

"I hate you! I can't believe you'd let Yamcha see me with you and flaunt it in his face… just to show off! I'm not some damn trophy!" Bulma yelled at him. Vegeta blinked at her in total confusion.

"Bulma, what's wrong? Aren't you in the mood?" Vegeta asked, reaching out a hand to pull her sheet away. She slapped his hand angrily, inching backwards till she could go no further.

"Just… leave me alone you sicko!" she sobbed.

"Bulma what is your problem?" Vegeta asked, softening his tone in confusion.

"I can't believe this... I thought you were different... but you're just the same as all the other men who've..." she gasped.

"I thought you wanted to… engage in physical interaction with me. What the hell changed your mind…" Vegeta demanded.

"When you made me some damn trophy to brag about in front of my ex boyfriend that's what!" Bulma sniffled. Vegeta backed away, growling in anger. He leapt off the bed with a frustrated snort, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Are you INSANE?" Vegeta yelled angrily, wheeling on her. "Since WHEN would a Prince do something THAT despicable! How DARE you insinuate that I'm using something like THIS to…"

"Wait…you mean you didn't know he'd see us?" Bulma asked.

"Stupid idiotic brainless fool!" Vegeta ranted, balling his fists. "I can't BELIEVE you'd think I'd be so ridiculous to treat you in such a vulgar manner…"

"Vegeta… I didn't realize. I'm sorry…" She gasped, hitching the sheet around her body. Vegeta stormed out of the room, obviously pissed beyond belief.

"Why I bother to waste my time on a low class ingrate… how DARE you!" Vegeta ranted.

"Hey Vegeta WAIT! I'm sorry! I didn't realize…" Bulma cried, rushing through the door. She tripped headlong on the sheet, yelping in pain as she crashed headlong on the floor.

"Damn it! What the BLAZES do you want now? You've made it obviously clear that you want nothing to do with…" he ranted.

"No, it's not LIKE that! Vegeta… I'm the ass. I'm wrong… just don't be pissed at me! I'm sorry!" Bulma yelled at him.

"What was that?" Vegeta asked, blinking at her as he turned his head. Seeing her tangled up in the sheets with tears in her eyes he spun around in surprise.

"I'm sorry okay! Come on you asshole I'm TRYING to apologize!" Bulma screamed.

"Do my ears deceive me… you're apologizing to me?" Vegeta sneered. "I don't want your stupid apology you ungrateful bitch…"

"No, I'm serious… I AM an idiot. Just don't be mad at me…" Bulma sniffled, glancing up at him.

"Humph," Vegeta snorted, drawing in a huge sigh. "I suppose I'll forgive you this time… for your cloth headedness. After all you are only a human… and I suppose you benefit much from interacting with a superior being. So I shall let this incident pass without retribution."

He crouched down on one knee and extended a gloved hand to her. Bulma put hers in it, and gave it a squeeze. He tugged her roughly to her feet, and snorted when he let go. Still he kept distance between them, snorting with hurt pride like a sulking child. "I'm sorry I hurt your feelings, Vegeta," Bulma said quietly.

"Who said I HAD feelings to hurt? Just shut up will you with that ridiculous drivel?" Vegeta growled.

"Vegeta-sama… turn around and look at me… please?" Bulma said, softening her voice to a plea.

"Ah, you infernal simpleton, if you weren't so amusing I'd," Vegeta chuffed, then winded his eyes at the sight of her letting the sheet drop off her body so her creamy white breasts were revealed, pink nipples jutting out with her excitement. Her white skin was blistered with goose pimples.

"Why don't we just try again… forget what just happened and… well… you know?" she asked, trying to put the best puppy dog look in her blue eyes. "Please your Majesty? Forgive me for being a bakka? I'll be really good…"

"Perhaps I CAN be lenient, considering the circumstances. Although you do look hideous as usual. Little wonder you were hiding behind that sheet…" he sniffed.

"Well what about you, bud?" she snickered.

"Tease," he snorted, then gave her a slow evil smirk. Bulma let the sheet drop the rest of the way to reveal her nightgown. Vegeta moved back, folding all but his pointer and middle to aim towards her. She trembled a bit, but closed her eyes to see the energy crackling.

"Humph come here Bulma," he chuckled, sending a low-grade ki blast towards her. Instead of stunning her, it cocooned her with a blue aura of matching ki. Soon her hair stood on end, fizzling with blue lightening. Slowly she rose up in the air, wrapped in Vegeta's ki envelope. The Prince raised himself up to match her, and gave her a look that showed she was forgiven for her folly. Bulma giggled at the tingling energy tickling over her bare skin. It swirled around her body like a butterfly's caress. Vegeta grinned maniacally, jerking his wrist so she spun slowly around. Her shapely flanks and tapered legs were now visible, and he drifted closer towards her vulnerable body.

"Ohhh… what are you doing, your Majesty..."

"You're completely at my mercy, girl," Vegeta purred, drifting up behind her.

"That girl SHOULD be jealous…" she whispered, tugging herself to him by gripping his shoulders. "I've got myself a real live handsome Prince Charming, and she's got my leftovers…"

"Took you THAT long to realize what you've got?" Vegeta chuckled, his laugh rumbling deeply as he opened his arms to her. With surprise she felt him crush her close to his levitating body.

"I'm really SORRY… you know, your Majesty," she whispered, blowing in his ear and turning her head to the side to kiss him.

"Stop apologizing and show me how sorry you are, Bulma," Vegeta ordered harshly.

He drifted three feet above the floor, letting Bulma wrap herself around his hard perfect body. Bulma graced his lips with another sensuous kiss. Vegeta blinked with surprise at how tender it was. Instead of demanding he finish pleasing her, she was giving him time to savor the moment he did not realize he was.

"I could stay like this forever," Bulma whispered. "I don't want to leave you..."

"No arguments although it's impractical, but who the hell cares," Vegeta grunted, burying his tongue into her lips and cutting off her next reply.

She cried out with joy at his ki permeating every cell of her body. They were bound by his blue energies, balancing the gulf of power between the mighty Saiyan Prince and the Capsule Corps heiress. Although her flesh seemed weak, her spirit blazed with intensity equal to his own.

A quick fear of being caught by Yamcha resurfaced, and she shoved her face into his shoulder to muffle it. Unfortunately she inadvertently clamped a bit of his hard flesh in the process, biting down hard. Blood seeped over her tongue, tingling with blue fire.

"Ahhhhhh BulmaAAAAAA!" he hollered, feeling the sting of her small teeth penetrating his skin. Vegeta collapsed on top of her, pushing her down to the mattress. He lay there panting, tangled into her body in the struggle to catch his breath.

"Vegeta… are you okay? Vegeta-chan?" she asked, trying to push him off her. "Oh Dende, I bit you…are you all right?"

"Mmm, just FINE woman," he groaned, then blinked at her in disbelief.

"I... didn't mean to do that..." she gasped, licking her lips and oddly finding his blood tasty.

"Didn't you mean to do that? Give me a MOMENT to pull myself together…"

"So demanding," she groaned, then gave up trying to push him away.

"You obviously DID mean to do that, because you wouldn't have DARED unless you were serious about it," Vegeta growled into her ear.

"Well maybe I DID mean it a little bit. I mean it's gonna leave one hell of a hickey, and it matches yours so fair enough," Bulma giggled.

Releasing all tension, she let her Prince deliciously press her body to the mattress. Both their hearts seemed oddly synched, and she waited a long time for the blue tingling to abate. A strange whispering came in her ears, and she fell into a deep sleep.

"Foolish woman…" Vegeta laughed quietly, then collapsed to the side. He used his last bit of strength to hold her at his side. Then he was fast asleep with her bound in his arms.

* * *

Hours later Bulma heard the crack of thunder, screaming awake from what seemed a nightmare of twisted evil. She felt strong arms restraining her, realizing that she had been dead asleep. Dreams of Freiza and androids swirled through her head, and she shivered in sweat soaked sheets. "Oh no... Dende... let me go!" 

"Shut up woman, I'm trying to sleep!" Vegeta grumbled, blinking awake. He tugged her back down so she was forced to pillow her head on his chest.

"Excuse me, you grouch!" she snorted. "I guess some of us aren't USED to nightmares!"

"Mmm, just sleep. It can't be all that bad. I'm still here…" Vegeta yawned sleepily.

"How would you know?"

"You were stupid enough to sit around me when I was recovering from the GR accident, didn't you? And like a nosy busybody you must have heard the evidence of my... ordeal," he said quietly. "Not that it was any of YOUR affair then...It's nothing compared to what we'll face. So enjoy the calm before the storm…"

"What?" she asked. "Vegeta… what are you talking about?"

"Go to sleep woman," he yawned. "You'll need it…"

"Vegeta... I'm scared... it could all..."

"Of course you are, you're only a human girl. So naturally you turn to ME for protection," he sniffed. "At least you have SOME sense... although..."

"Vegeta… aren't you the LEAST bit worried that I bit you… it's going to leave a NASTY mark…" she whispered, fingering the matching bite on his shoulder.

"As if your puny teeth could hurt ME, woman," he chuckled.

"Then you're not mad?"

"Humph I suppose you have no idea what you've done then?" Vegeta asked with a smirk.

"What? I gave you a hickey cause you bit ME first! I don't believe in inequality, bud!" she asked, sitting up. He released her, and she saw a possessive gleam in his eyes.

"You'll never be rid of me, Woman. I'm going to torment you for the rest of your life," Vegeta laughed.

"Nani? What's THAT supposed to mean, wise guy?" she asked, blinking at him as she backed away.

"You bit me, baka. That means you're stuck with me, like it or not. So I have to put up with your annoying mouth the rest of my days… so I suppose I'll have some measure of fun in giving you hell in return…" he laughed deeply, almost looking pleased with himself.

"You're insane… you silly Saiyan," she chuckled awkwardly as he grinned maniacally at her. "You REALLY had me going there…"

"Deny it all you want, imbecile. But you won't ever get rid of me, no matter how much we piss each other off," Vegeta snorted, the smile fading.

"Wait just ONE minute your Royal Whyness... this makes NO sense!"

"You're supposed to be smart, if you haven't figured it out by now…" Vegeta harrumphed.

"What are you LOOKING at me like that for!" Bulma asked, thumping his chest.

"Never mind. I suppose you'll have to find out the hard way you thick headed idiot," Vegeta snorted, looking offended.

"Now HEY!" she gasped.

"Now go to sleep. I have a lot of training to do to catch up on…You'd better have breakfast for both of us tomorrow," he snorted, grabbing her and pulling her possessively to his chest. "Now sleep."

"Jerk," she snorted, but not out of anger. A million questions fluttered to life, making her wonder what he was so grouchy about. For certain he was only joking. So why did he look so offended?

"Stupid ningen. I hope I don't regret what I've done," he snorted.

"Vegeta, relax… what are you so pissed about? I had the best sex of my life…"

"Is that all you stupid humans think about? Well I suppose that you'll just have to have a good screw to shut you the hell up so we can both get some peace…"

"Now WAIT buster!" she snapped.

"Shut up woman. And sleep. I won't have my woman keeping me awake with her idle babbling…" he yawned, trapping her with his arms.

"YOUR woman?" she gasped. "Hey, Vegeta… wait!"

Her answer was only a long roaring snore. Vegeta had dropped into sleep, snaring her in his muscular arms. Whimpering she struggled to get up then gave up. Grumbling to herself she lay her head on his chest and twisted just enough so she could sleep atop him. Soon her snores joined his, as she collapsed into confused sleep.

"His woman?" she wondered, then pushed it away. She was too tired to puzzle it out. Perhaps tomorrow…

* * *


	7. Shandi and Marron's revenge

**A Taste of Heat**

By Trynia Merin

_Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z, Bulma or Vegeta or any of the characters here. Toriyama and Funimation and Toei Animation Co Ltd. Owns them. This is a work of fan fiction and is not meant to harm the series. I only own Shandi Seltzer, a fan character. _

Rated M for adult situations and language.

_**Shandi and Marron's Revenge **_

**

* * *

**

Comfortable warmth surrounded Bulma on all sides. Out of a deep sleep she surfaced, not wishing to wake, but knowing it was inevitable. Just what had roused her was clear, because she saw the sun beaming through the windows, still pale with early morning swirls of red and pink. Through Venetian blinds it blinked, a backdrop to the dancing shadows on the thin shafts of light creeping along the far wall. Bulma yawned, slowly pressing her face into the firm surface she laid her face upon. Her breasts were pressed against the same surface, while her body was draped over a hard warm mass that barely yielded.

"OHHH it's COLD YAMI!" screamed a woman's voice. Someone was laughing and splashing in the pool just a few hundred yards away. A woman let out a loud piecing scream, accompanied by a loud laugh. Bulma groaned, blinking up into the sunlight.

"Shimatta, I wish I could stop that noise," she grumbled.

"Hey baby, do a swan dive!" laughed Yamcha's voice, partly muffled by the walls. Another splash followed the reverberating shudder of a diving board.

"Since when the hell did I have my room so close to the pool," Bulma yawned, and slowly blinked. The red numerals of an alarm clock spelled out eight thirty AM.

"Yamcha, have you seem Bulma?" asked a familiar voice that made her wince.

"Umm no Ms. Briefs. She's been uh... well she and Vegeta were eating breakfast and then they just disappeared," said Yamcha.

"Well she didn't come out for dinner or lunch, and we're worried sick... I wonder if Vegeta's seen her..."

"Um why do you ask?" Yamcha asked with a nervous laugh.

"I last saw her with Vegeta..." said Shandi's high-pitched laugh that was suddenly cut off.

"Oho, you have a visitor... dearie my... aren't you a DOLL?" Mrs. Briefs cooed in a pitch the same as the annoying offender who had roused Bulma out of dreamland.

Bulma felt a bit ill in her stomach, realizing she must have skipped two meals. Oddly she did not feel very fatigued due to a strange blue afterimage flaring past her eyeballs. Grumbling she shifted positions, but felt something was preventing her from getting up.

"Nani?" she asked, then pushed against the heavy arm pulling her down. An intelligible grunt protested, tugging her back down.

"Can't that looser shut the blazes up? Some of us are trying to sleep..." her lover rasped.

Bulma shivered in realization. It crashed down around her that this wasn't her bed, because she didn't have an alarm clock to the left. Also, if she narrowed her eye she could see a well-worn armored breastplate leaning against one wall, while various other components of technology sat here and there. Including a small neat pile that looked suspiciously like new prototype armor she had made for the Saiyan no Ouji.

"Don't you have... training?" she asked quietly, realizing who she was in bed with. It was his room after all, a place she had hardly seen the interior of except to collect bits of laundry and such.

"You wore us both out, wench, so I lost a bit of time. No matter..." he answered. Bulma blushed deeply, then blinked down at him through the dimness of light and shadow. Slowly she raised her finger to trace over his skin and caress it.

"Good morning to you, Mr. Happy," she said, seeing the frown on his face. However she wondered what would happen if she tried kissing him good morning. Pressing hands to his chest she pecked him lightly on the lips.

When he realized her from the kiss he made a face, "Ugh woman, your breath tastes HORRENDOUS..."

"You're no Certs spokes boy yourself, your Royal Pain in my Ass," Bulma said with a mock argued tone that brought a slight smirk to his lips.

"Get up with you now... Breakfast... and a shower..." he said, giving her backside a spank and shoving her playfully away so she almost toppled out of his bed. Bulma stuck her tongue out at him, and then realized she was missing something.

"Um... not to be a pain in the ass..."

"Too late, you already are," he smirked, pushing aside the covers and standing up to stretch. A loud cracking snap caused her to grit her teeth as he rolled his shoulders and neck around.

"You destroyed my clothes bud, what the hell am I supposed to wear?"

"Give me a damn minute," he yawned, grabbing a pair of boxers from the nearby chair and pulling them on. "Go find something to cover yourself. I don't want anyone else seeing how repulsive you are when I know the truth..."

"Look who's talking. At least I don't look like an eighties throwback that should be hanging from someone's key chain!" she half giggled.

"Baka," he answered. "Another damn pop culture reference I should lower myself to learn?"

She wandered after him, grabbing his royal blue bathrobe and tying it around herself. He grabbed her by the arm and playfully dragged her with him to the shower. Within minutes they were freshly cleaned off. He left the shower first, flaring royal blue to dry himself in the manner he had before. Bulma finished washing her hair and shaving her legs while he attended to his needs.

"Thank Kami he's not some slob. I couldn't stand to pick up after someone ELSE!" she thought as she saw the towels unused and stacked on the commode. Bulma dried off quickly then made a turban around her hair to catch the worst of it. Grumbling she realized she was going to smell like Old Spice instead of her favorite cucumber melon soap. She grabbed his robe again, and exchanged the towel around her body for it.

Her breath drew in sharply to see him pulling on a pair of blue spandex workout pants over his marvelous backside. He was in the process of bending over to grab a sleeveless tank top and raising it to hitch over his head when she saw his back. Those multiple scars made her wince. Although they were almost white against his olive skin and nicely healed, the most dramatic one stretched from his upper shoulder to midway along his back.

Bulma wolf whistled, seeing his muscles bulge as he drew his shirt on, and then reached for a pair of white gloves. "Admiring perfection I see?" he smirked.

"Hell yeah. But don't let it get to your head. Wouldn't want it to get any more swelled or else you'd make one screwed up looking balloon, and we'd have to tie a string around your ankle, bud," she answered.

"That's where my robe got to. Give it back, woman..."

"Try and get it from me... I can't go around NAKED, right?"

"Only around me," he laughed, reaching over and tugging at her robe.

"HEY!" she yelled, smacking his gloved hands away. Vegeta grabbed a pair of his boxers and a T-shirt, throwing them at her. She unfolded them and quickly pulled the loaner outfit on.

"Are you going to stand there all day catching flies in your yap, or are you going to make yourself USEFUL and make us some breakfast?" he snorted.

"Okay, keep your shirt on, your Majesty... sheesh," she said, brushing past him and throwing the robe back at him. Vegeta shook his head over dramatically and strode gracefully after her. She wondered if he was admiring the sway of her hips as she walked, so she put an extra swish in her step.

* * *

Bulma scraped the contents of one of four frying pans onto the plate Vegeta held out to her expectantly. Already four plates were neatly stacked to his left. Next to the omelet she laid six pieces of bacon, before Vegeta placed it down before him. She sat down for a moment, wiping sweat from her brow.

"Humph, barely adequate, but it will suffice," he mumbled through mouthfuls of omelet.

"I guess that's better than tasting like shit?" she raised a brow at him.

"Umm," he mumbled, swallowing his mouthful. Deftly he cut pieces off with knife and fork, and Bulma found herself watching him simply eat with a strange fondness. Vegeta said nothing during his meal, but she wasn't in the mood for conversation. Still the bite on her shoulder was a bit tender, and she raised her fingertips to feel it.

"Coffee?" she asked. Vegeta nodded, pushing his mug over for her to top off.

"Are you trying to look like a famine victim woman? Eat damn it!" he grunted at her, shoveling part of his food onto an empty plate and thrusting it before her.

"Since when did you give a shit what I ate, huh?" she asked.

"Since you started showing your ribs like some skeleton. It doesn't become you. I don't like putting it into a bone," he mumbled. Bulma blushed a bit, then allowed herself to eat what he'd given her.

"Oh my, that smells simply delish!" Bulma's mother crowed as she walked in. "I hope you made ME some..."

"All right mom, I'll fix you a plate," Bulma said, leaping up.

"Sit down, woman, and eat damn it. She can get her own!" Vegeta grunted, gently seizing Bulma's wrist with a gloved hand and guiding her to sit again.

"Hey wait a minute..."

"He's right, don't trouble yourself," said Mrs. Briefs, grabbing her favorite apron and picking up where Bulma left off. Dr. Briefs shuffled in a minute later, repositioning his black cat around his shoulders while carrying the morning paper in his other hand with some trade journals.

"Good morning snookums, and my little Princess," he said, leaning over to give his wife a kiss on the lips, then Bulma a buss on the cheek.

"Dad, knock it off!" she grumbled.

"Your Majesty," he grunted to Vegeta, who gave him a cursory grunt through a mouthful of omelet. He didn't even look up when Dr. Briefs took a seat opposite the Prince. Instead he raised his paper and put it as a screen between Vegeta and himself, long having learned the Prince liked his privacy when eating.

"More orange juice, young man?" Bunny asked.

"And while you're at it, some more toast," he grunted, indicating the racks were empty. Like magic they were replenished and an entire jar of marmalade was set nearby as well. Bulma finished what Vegeta had thrown on her plate, then idly stirred milk and sugar into her coffee. It seemed oddly domestic, because Vegeta was silent, and her father was reading the paper while Bunny sang to herself. Almost a picture of domestic tranquility.

"Hey, hey hey," Yamcha laughed as he strode through the kitchen, with a towel around his neck.

"Don't track water on the floor! I just mopped it!" Bunny gasped as small puddles trailed him behind.

"Oops, my bad!" Yamcha laughed, arm in arm with a purple haired Shandi. She wore a two piece French bikini with a towel hitched around her hips.

"Oh my... do I know you?" Dr. Briefs asked, putting his hand over his nose at the sight of her figure.

"Great Galaxy, put some clothes on dammit... some of us are trying to eat!" Vegeta spluttered as he glared at them both.

"Excuse me, but we were SWIMMING?" Yamcha snorted at Vegeta.

"Low class trollop," Vegeta started.

"Vegeta, more coffee?" Bulma asked, holding the pot over his cup.

"Mmm," he nodded, then pointed to his empty plate. She grabbed the contents of the frying pan and dumped more egg onto his plate.

"Ohh that smells WONDERFUL, can we have..."

"No," Vegeta mumbled.

"I didn't realize that you had company, Yamcha... I suppose I COULD fix you two a plate..."

"Don't bother... they can just order out pizza. I'm sure that's all he really wants to eat anyway, unless he has some still left over from last night," Bulma said, glaring at Yamcha.

"Ugh, cold pizza is AWFUL," Shandi made a face.

"What does this look like, a hotel? Yamcha, if you and your girlfriend want to eat breakfast, go to the diner down the street!" Bulma suddenly snapped at him.

"Bulma dear, its no big deal!" Bunny said.

"I'm serious, Mom..." Bulma snapped.

"Calm down sweetie," said Dr. Briefs. "I'm sure it wouldn't be a huge problem... after all... but we shouldn't make a habit of it..."

"The woman's right," Vegeta snorted, glaring at both Yamcha and Shandi. "You want breakfast you cook it yourself. It's not like you serve any useful purpose around here!"

"I wasn't TALKING to you, Vegeta," Yamcha snorted. "And I'm here training like YOU are so I have EVERY right to..."

"Knock it off, Yamcha. Vegeta, ignore him. No arguing in the kitchen. If you really WANT breakfast, you can make it after we're done. There's not enough for all of us..."

"But I see loads of..." Shandi said.

"It's for Vegeta and the rest of us," Bulma said pointedly. "You guys can order donuts or something..."

"But I'm on a diet!" Shandi gasped.

"There are some donuts in the pantry..." Bunny said, getting up and sliding between a fuming Bulma and a very pensive Yamcha.

"I'll be training in the GR," Vegeta grunted, throwing down his napkin and getting up. Bulma grabbed his stack of dishes and plunked it into the sink, then returned to get the rest. Vegeta handed her his emptied coffee mug, and gave her a grunt of affirmation, which was his way of saying thanks.

"You're welcome," she said quietly as he strode off.

"He's creepy," Shandi whispered to Yamcha.

"So... how's it shaking?" Yamcha asked, sitting down where Vegeta had sat before, and pulling Shandi onto his lap.

"Young lady, have I seen you somewhere before? Miss July?"

"OH you HAVE seen me? I was in the last year's calendar of Sports Illustrated..." Shandi laughed gleefully.

"Dr. Briefs?" Yamcha blinked.

"Bulma dearie, what does that T shirt say? I've never seen a company named Bejitasei before?" Shandi pointed to her T-shirt. "Is it some product that Capsule is making…"

"What the hell?" Bulma asked, then glanced down and pulled at the logo stretched across her breasts. She flushed bright red when she remembered it was a gag gift for last Christmas for the Saiyan no Ouji. He was at first disgusted to see the royal symbol scrawled across a T shirt like some pop culture icon, but she had seen him wear it during his workouts when she wasn't looking.

"Oh my I remember that's what you got that nice young man for…" Bunny giggled as Bulma blushed.

"Where the heck did you get THAT?" Yamcha blinked. "I've never seen that in your drawers…"

"None of your business," Bulma groaned as Yamcha gaped, and Shandi scratched her head in confusion.

"You really COULD use a wonder bra, you know," said Shandi. "I always found it lifted and separated well…"

"Mind your own damn business!" Bulma snorted. "What I wear is MY concern!"

"How do you know what's in Bulma's drawers? You weren't snooping around again, were you?" Dr. Briefs asked. "I warned you about going places in Capsule that weren't…"

"Here's some chocolate covered icing tempting treats!" Bunny suddenly interrupted, pushing between Bulma and Yamcha with a plate loaded with tasty donuts.

"Bulma?" asked Yamcha. "What's going on?"

"I'll be in my LAB!" she snorted, sticking her nose in the air and stamping out.

"What's HER problem?" asked Shandi. "Is she PMS?"

"No, that's how she usually is," Yamcha whispered to her with an uncomfortable look on his face.

"Why should YOU care what she's wearing anyhow?" sniffed Shandi. "After all, you're no longer dating her, right?"

"Of course not… why SHOULD I worry," Yamcha snorted, and then turned to pick up a donut and lift it up to Shandi's lips. Seeing her nibbling on it, Dr. Briefs peered out from over the top of his paper. A small trickle of blood ran down his nose that he dabbed away at with a tissue.

* * *

"Nice car bro!" Krillen grinned as Yamcha pulled up with Shandi.

"I got a GREAT deal on it. Bulma pulled some strings. Speaking of, are you and Marron ready to boogie?" asked Yamcha with a grin.

"I can't WAIT!" Marron squealed as she stepped out of Kame house, wearing a blue bikini and a long blue sarong hitched about her hips.

"Hi babe!" Shandi laughed, seeing her friend standing there. Both girls gave a mutual squeal and hugged each other tightly.

"So, how's the cute little guy treating you?" Shandi whispered.

"He's sweet. Innocent and sweet. He'll do ANYTHING for me," Marron whispered to her cousin.

"Hey, where can I put the cooler?" Krillen asked, handing it to Yamcha.

"We'll stash it in the trunk. Ladies, you packed your volleyball? Because we're going to have FUN in the sun! And nobody's better than Roshi's students!"

"Whoa HEY babes at four o'clock!" Oolong laughed as he peeked out the window. Master Roshi glanced over his shoulder, dripping blood on the shape shifting pig's white undershirt.

"Yeah… you're not kidding. You got the camera ready?"

"You got it," Oolong grinned, shape shifting into a camera. Master Roshi loaded film into the back of the shape shifter and snapped as many pictures as he could in five minutes. Although it was difficult with his nose bleeding profusely and Oolong sweating and griping about the film shoved into an awkward place.

"Stop bitching! I've got some real honeys here!" he laughed, waiting for Marron to lean over and pick up a small shell he had strategically placed for that purpose. Her marvelous pink bathing suit thong was stretched over white flanks.

"Did you see something flash?" Shandi asked, glancing at the window.

"Uh oh, elevator going down!" Roshi gulped, ducking down. A blast of smoke hit his face when Oolong shifted out of his shape, panting as he spat the roll of film out of his mouth and handed it to Roshi.

"Ugh, this tastes TERRIBLE! Next time, have Puar do it!"

"But Puar won't appreciate art like you and I would," Roshi huffed, wiping the blood cascading out of his nose. "I'll get these to the one hour developing studio on the mainland, and we'll have ourselves a PARTY…"

"You bet," Oolong panted, peering over the sill as Marron handed her beach bag to a willing Krillen, and Shandi showed her a gleaming new CD player. Both the blue hair and the purple haired girls whispered and pointed at Yamcha and Krillen sweating as they loaded the car, giving a knowing grin.

"Yami's a nine point five in the sack, wow!" whispered Shandi.

"I told you he'd be a dream boat. Too bad about that prissy princess who dumped him. She's loaded…" whispered Marron.

"Well, Yamcha STILL lives there… and we DID get some nice donuts. Mrs. Briefs is SO cool, and Dr. Briefs is a sweetie. Too bad their daughter's such a bitch queen," whispered Shandi.

"You got it. To think Krillen had a crush on her… ugh…" gasped Marron.

"Girls, you ready?" asked Krillen, leaning the seat back.

"Oh yes, sweetie," Marron grinned, giving him a kiss on his bald forehead.

"Shucks," Krillen laughed, blushing bright red. Marron took his hand and let him help her into the car then grinned as he leapt over and landed next to her. With a sigh and a sly grin he leaned back, letting his arm casually drape around her shoulders. She winked at Shandi, who climbed into the front with Yamcha next to her. With one hand on Shandi's thigh, and the other on the wheel, he gunned the sports car out over the ocean into hover mode. They streaked towards the mainland, where a large dance party was in full swing.

"I can't BELIEVE we get to be on Dance Party live! It's soo AWESOME!" Marron crowed.

"I've got connections, ladies," Yamcha winked. "Good thing the director's a season ticket holder for the Taitans…"

"Sweet, isn't it?" asked Krillen. Marron rubbed his shoulders and leaned her head against him, letting him sit close. In a state of bliss, Krillen shoved his sunglasses on and leaned back to relax and enjoy himself. And wonder what he'd done to deserve such luck.

"Yami, how long did it take you to get these tickets?" Shandi asked.

"Well, I'll let you in on a secret. There's such a long list to get on that show that I signed up in advance. I know the director, but he still had to make sure there were two other spots for your cousin and my buddy Krillen."

"Was it… gonna be with her?" asked Shandi.

"Babe, I hope that's not a problem," said Yamcha.

"Oh no, her loss is my gain," grinned Shandi, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. Yamcha let his hand wander higher, reveling in his sheer luck.

* * *


	8. Vegeta helps Bulma get even, not mad

**A Taste of Heat**

By Trynia Merin

_Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z, Bulma or Vegeta or any of the characters here. Toriyama and Funimation and Toei Animation Co Ltd. owns them. This is a work of fan fiction and is not meant to harm the series. I only own Shandi Seltzer. _

Rated M for adult situations and language.

_**Don't Get Mad, Get Even **_

**

* * *

**

It had been a tough session in the lab, trying to fix a ki sensor that Vegeta had blown. Already it was twelve thirty, and her stomach was due for a refresher. Wiping sweat off her brow, she turned to her father.

"I think I need a break. Whew…"

"You go run along dear. All work and no play makes Bulma a dull girl…" said Dr. Briefs. "I don't know how I'd function without my little inventor…"

"Dad, gimme a break!" Bulma groaned, unbuttoning her lab coat.

"I hope you weren't too sore at your mother and me for letting that Yami boy just make himself at home. I'm seriously rethinking whether it's a good idea to let him continue to train here… "

"Well if his regimen includes chocolate donuts and thumping the horizontal mamba, I say we throw him and his crap out of here," Bulma sniffed. "After all, his reason for staying isn't exactly VALID anymore…"

"He did offer his services as a security guard part time. In return for using and testing my new exercise equipment… and he DOES pay rent on time… lately… which is interesting," said Dr. Briefs.

"Well, still, he's getting on my nerves," Bulma mumbled. "I'm this close to taking his stuff and leaving it on the lawn! It's driving me NUTS that he's just down the HALL from me!"

"I suppose we can move him into the bungalow… but that would give the Prince great consternation," Dr. Briefs shivered.

"I'm sure I could convince his Majesty to swap rooms," said Bulma.

"That young man in the house? Not that I don't admire his sense of hard work… but is he…"

"He's more reliable than Yamcha. After all, he behaved himself at breakfast. And he isn't bringing a flavor of the month STRANGER into the house each week," said Bulma. "Besides Vegeta's a LOT quieter then Yamcha anyway! I can't STAND the noise that Yamcha and his little friend are making lately!"

"All right then, if someone can convince Vegeta not to blow up the house he can move his things into the other guestroom, and I'll have the bots relocate Yamcha's things into the bungalow where Vegeta was…" said Dr. Briefs.

"Thank you Daddy. You won't regret it," said Bulma. "And I think it would be better just to start by moving Yamcha's crap out first, and then making up the guest bed… although Vegeta's things we'll have to ask him first…"

"I see your point," said Dr. Briefs. "Consider it done… but who's going to break the news to Vegeta?"

"My mom could," said Bulma with a grin. "She always DOES have a way with him… and since he's royalty, what better then a NICE guest suite as nice as MINE?"

"True. Now go on and get out of here. It's the weekend for crying out loud, and I promised your mother I wouldn't keep you in this lab forever. She's giving me grief about not pushing you OUT of here… it's been AGES since you've been on a date! I know you're sore over Yamcha… but you're a pretty young thing still! You need to meet people…"

"Dad, really! You're worse then mom!" she groaned.

"I want to see some grand kids," he nudged her as she threw her lab coat at him, and strode out, rolling her eyes.

"DAD!" she groaned.

Bulma sat down in front of the TV, still wearing her Bejitasei T shirt and a pair of black silk boxers. She piled a dish high with ice cream, and picked up the remote. For some reason, she felt the need to indulge her first love with a banana split.

"Okay, Dance Party live, or Technical Nanobye digest?" she wondered. Slowly she flipped channels, propping her feet up on the coffee table and putting the dish of ice cream in her lap. Mumbling she took a few bites then set it aside to grab the TV guide.

At first the Technical Nanobyte digest was intriguing. Bulma was part of the way through her second lump of a four lump ice cream sundae when she realized she was curious to see just WHERE the Dance Party Live was taking place today. Since it was almost the middle of summer, they took the show to a number of live beach clubs.

"So, if I'm gonna boogie like my daddy wants me to, I gotta know the latest steps," she said, grabbing the remote once more. She flipped to the channel, watching the camera pan over a very nice stretch of exclusive beach.

"Hey… that's near West Central city… son of a gun…" she blinked. It was only two hours by hover car, and she noticed the bronzed beauties in their thong and French cut bikinis along with the men with their toned legs. They whirled and gyrated around a large stage near the straw and bamboo themed place.

"All right peoples, are we READY to party? We're live from the Malibu Kawaii club in beautiful Crystal Bay City! And the most babelicious surfer girls and hunkarific muscle bound surfers are already whipping it up!" said the man with the bonded teeth, in a blue and yellow Hawaiian print shirt, and very tight spandex shorts.

Next to him the girl with streaked yellow and bronze hair struggled to keep her overstuffed bikini top stuffed as she chimed in, "Oh yeah we've got the hottest acts here… cued up is Mystery Machine, Emergency Exit, Minmei Kyle and Lynn, and much much more! Stay tuned!"

"Okay Bulma, you've got an hour to learn the latest groove," she thought, debating if she should get up and try a few steps. Taking another spoonful of sundae she rose from the sofa and strode up to the wide screen TV. She turned it up a few notches and began to sway her hips to the music. The camera continued to pan around the dancing and gyrating couples. Breasts and hips bounced to the techno beat that characterized the hottest dance mixes.

* * *

Bulma was just getting into a new groove when she suddenly stopped in shock. A blue haired girl performed an intricate step pattern opposite a purple haired girl that looked familiar. When the camera zoomed out she saw their partners bob into view. One was a bald short guy, with muscles and tan shorts worn with a striped polo shirt and dockers. Mirrored sunglasses concealed his eyes, but she could swear it looked like Krillen. Then a scar faced hunk in red speedo and a Hawaiian print shirt bobbed into view, wrapping his arms around the purple haired girl in sinuous movements that resembled a primal predator.

"Holy HELL I can't BELIEVE it!" Bulma screamed, falling onto the sofa in shock. "How did THEY get on there?"

She rubbed her eyes violently, not wanting to believe she saw what she had. Yet plain as anything it was Krillen and Yamcha dancing on TV with Shandi and that other girl Marron that Krillen had been dating for a while. A hot flash of anger filled her face when she remembered something she had filed under F for forget after she had broken up with Yamcha. Wasn't it the day she was going to have her shot on this very show?

"Oh no he didn't… he didn't… that kusotarre!" she shrilled, throwing the remote forwards. "Ohh I HATE him! He has the freakin' nerve to take THEM when… oooohh!"

"What the hell is this ridiculous noise?" a deep voice interrupted her. Bulma was pounding her fists on the floor and all but throwing a tantrum as she glared murderously at the screen.

"That… that… bakyarou! Can you BELIEVE it? I gave him an extra two thousand zenni to bribe the guy for tickets, and he takes HER! DAMN him!"

"What a load of shameless low class vulgar people! I can't believe they put this shit on TV. It looks like the Slave market on Freiza 325!" Vegeta harrumphed, plopping onto the sofa and grabbing the forgotten ice cream sundae. He began to eat it, then nudged a fuming Bulma with his gold-toed boot.

"Hey, that's mine!" she yelped, reaching up. Vegeta snatched up the remote and played keep away with it.

"You've had your turn with this infernal device. And as long as you're playing this shit you call music how can I meditate properly?"

"Well, aren't you usually meditating in the GR now?"

"Are you insane? I'm starving," Vegeta said, packing away the remains of her sundae and licking chocolate off his lips as she climbed up on the sofa and reached high for the remote.

"Vegeta, you look at that and tell me what you see… look familiar?"

"Other than those whores and pimps showing their weak bodies?" Vegeta asked. "Are you trying to make me puke?"

"No… look THERE! It's…"

"Cue ball and bright buns. Well, that's an unpleasant surprise. And they brought their little whores with them..." Vegeta snickered. "Is THAT what you're making that horrid noise about?"

"I was supposed to go! And he used my goddamn tickets when he SAID he'd get my money back!" she snorted. Vegeta leaned his legs up in her lap, and this time she glared murderously at the TV rather than protest. Actually his calves felt delicious over hers so she felt the heat pooling again.

"So? Why should you give a shit?" Vegeta asked, throwing the remote at her. She caught it, and turned the volume down.

"Oh, you don't get it do you. And thanks for leaving me some of MY ice cream left, jerk," she snorted.

"You're welcome," he snickered, handing her the rest of the bowl. To her surprise he had left a few spoon fulls left, letting her have a taste at least.

"Mmm, you make me sick. You can eat whatever the hell you want and not gain a pound…" she said.

"I'm doing you a favor, Blue. You should thank me for eating 1400 calories you would bitch about adding to your fat ass," he laughed.

"Oh yeah, you're a genius," she shot back, then flickered through the channels to the newsmagazine again. Then she grew bored and tossed the remote towards him again. With a gloved hand he caught it and paged through the menu for Die-Hard or some mindless action flick. Bulma sighed and reached down to slowly rub his leg muscles because she could guess he would insist on THAT next.

"I know," he snorted, his eyes growing heavy as he started to nod off. The remote dropped from his hand to the floor, and his legs were very relaxed on her lap. Bulma struggled to pull his boots off and set them down, then laid her head back and closed her eyes to try and relieve herself of her anger.

"Vegeta?"

"Hmm?" he asked, blinking at her.

"You're awful relaxed. I thought by now you'd be training again?"

"You're not the boss of me," he said, sitting up and moving his legs off her lap. "Besides, I wondered how you were wasting your time lately…"

"Well, right now I'm so pissed I could spit nails at those guys. Using my tickets that I used my money to…"

"So, don't get mad, get even," Vegeta said.

"What?"

"Go surprise the shit out of them. Is that showing live?" he asked.

"Yes but…"

"Put on some beach attire and meet me out in the yard in ten minutes," said Vegeta.

"Why?"

"Because I said so, that's why. That should be reason enough," Vegeta said, nudging her with his fist gently. "Now follow my command."

"Yes sir. I suppose at least that will take a bite out of this day," she mumbled, getting up. Seeing the grin on his face she stopped. "Wait Vegeta… do you have something in mind?"

"Depends on if you do, Bulma," he chuckled.

"Oh, you DO know my name after all? What a surprise…"

"Hmm," he said as he got off the sofa. "Are you going to sit there like a lump or do something? Or should I be wasting my time on you?"

"Depends on what you're talking about," she mumbled, rushing up the stairs and wondering what Vegeta had in mind.

* * *

Putting on a rather nice electric blue two piece, custom made, she grabbed a white pair of skorts to wear with the strappy sandals. Still she wore the T shirt he had given her, and knotted it so it was tight across her bust, overtop the shirt. Then she grabbed a beach hat and a loose fashionable beach robe overtop wit her favorite sun glasses.

Grabbing her stylish purse that was electric green, she strode down the stairs. She grabbed the keys to her air car, only to have someone grab her under the arms and carry her out of the door.

"HEY WAIT what are you doing?" Bulma yelped as she realized Vegeta was carrying her in his arms. Before she could protest further he blasted off, leaving the ground far below them in seconds.

"Hold on, girl, and don't make that awful noise if you don't want me to drop you," Vegeta said. It dawned on her this was the first time he had ever carried anyone, other then the few nights where he had grabbed her and dropped her into the pool for a practical joke.

"Are you NUTS! HEY!" Bulma yelped, grabbing him tightly around the neck and almost strangling him.

"Be quiet!" he snapped, increasing his grip. She then felt t shirt cloth under her fingers, and realized he was wearing the pink shirt she had gotten him, but with a pair of yellow shorts and Birkenstocks instead of the yellow pants. He wore the mirrored Ray Bans that her mother had gotten him on a shopping trip and no gloves on his bare hands miraculously.

"Vegeta, you look NORMAL!" she gasped, glancing down at him. He gave her breast a squeeze and snorted.

"What of it? Don't make anything more than it is. I'm simply going under cover to assist in your plot to pay Bright Buns back," Vegeta snorted.

"Get even?"

"I know your propensity for malicious pranks. I simply wish to join in on the fun for a change. To amuse myself…" Vegeta answered with a snicker.

"Oh, I get it now," Bulma laughed. "By the way, love your shirt bud…"

Vegeta grumbled unintelligibly, but Bulma leaned over to give him a gentle kiss on the lips. "Knock that off! You want me to crash into something?"

"Are you telling me the Prince can't multitask?" she asked, breathing in his ear. Slinging her bag around her chest she rubbed his chest through his shirt. Then she seized his ear and started to nibble. Vegeta stopped and gaped at her,.

"You realize what you're doing to me, you idiot?" he snorted, nodding down at his shorts.

"Want me to help you with it?" Bulma winked.

"Hold on," Vegeta said sharply, letting go of her legs. She yelped and clung tightly to him, as he gripped her waist and put her so she was below him. Her question was cut off when he seized her lips with his own, and streaked rapidly towards the beach club while keeping above the clouds out of view of any prying eyes. Bulma's heart pounded in her ear. Vegeta panted, releasing her lips. He stood up, having landed in the cover of some palm trees and manicured foliage.

"Are we still alive…" she gasped. A light wind whipped through her beach robe.

"Indeed, we're here," he chuckled, leaning down to nip the mark that was scabbing over. She gasped at his tongue lapping up blood, and then shoved her face into his neck again, where a similar mark matched the dimensions of her own teeth. She hesitated, then saw his annoyed glare when she pulled back. Shaking her head she realized she dared not refuse his silent command, and lowered her face to bite his neck gently. He hissed in pleasure, shoving her against his neck till she lapped up his blood as well.

"I'm still dizzy… whoa… I've never done it… flying like that… I guess this means we're both in the mile high club?" she joked weakly, trying to stop her legs from shaking. Vegeta slung an arm around her hips to steady her against his body then led her towards the thumping base beat permeating the air as the club carried on.

"Now, for phase one…" he grinned, helping her to enter the compound. Bulma wondered how they would get past the black shirted bouncers with their headsets and burly chests.

"How am I supposed to…"

"Use your status. You are one of the richest heiresses on the planet aren't you?" Vegeta asked irritated. "Throw your weight around! You're Bulma Briefs, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I am," she laughed. "DUH!"

"Then use your status and get us the hell in," Vegeta sighed impatiently as she dug for her driver's license to hand to the expectant bouncer.

* * *


	9. Live at Club Kawaii

_Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z. Toriyama and Toei animation co do. I only own Shandi. This is a work of fan fiction. I don't get paid for this, and this means no harm to the series! I only own the fan character of Shandi, and the idea of the dance club here!_

**A Taste of Heat**

By Trynia Merin

**_Chapter 9 Wet T shirt contest and more mayhem! _**

_

* * *

_

"Miss Bulma Briefs? Are you kidding me? Is that really you ma'am? As in one of the ten richest bachelorettes in the world?" the bouncer gasped, almost loosing his baseball cap in amazement. He widened his eyes at the sight of her driver's license.

Bulma lifted her sunglasses and winked at him saucily. She giggled, "That'd be me. I know you're still filming and all…"

"Briefs you said?" the club manager gasped as Bulma was almost shoved by the others. Vegeta however moved between them and her, giving the crowd a dirty look.

Bulma nodded, "Yep that's me. Can you let me in please? I'm sure we can get you a corporate sponsorship…"

"Of course, right this way! You can have a special table near the front!" gasped the manager. "Who's your companion?"

"My bodyguard," she teased.

"Humph," Vegeta snorted. "Of all the nerve. I suppose that is accurate to SOME extent…"

Nose in the air he shoved the drooling patrons aside, and Bulma followed. Like the Red sea, the crowd parted, mainly due to the death ray stare the muscular hunk in the Bad Man shirt was giving everyone. Also, the fact that the name "briefs' had been uttered was another factor. "Don't let EVERYONE know… that's a good boy," Bulma smiled, batting her eyelashes at the manager. He led her to a semi private table near the back, and babbled to the bouncers to keep nosy onlookers back.

"Ah, this is good, thanks," Bulma nodded, giving the waiter a tip.

"You have a great view of Dance Party Live. If there's anything you want, Armando will take GOOD care of you," the manager said.

"Oh thank you," said Bulma. Vegeta harrumphed, and sat down next to Bulma, arms folded across his chest. He lifted his Ray bans and glared at the nervous manager who rushed off.

"Anything to start you off with?"

"A Kailua and cream for me… and for him…"

"Tequila, a whole bottle, and several Budweiser chasers," Vegeta said.

"Just get them ahead of time. He's been known to be demanding," Bulma grinned. Nodding and accepting the 100-zenni tip, the waiter rushed off with their orders.

* * *

By the time he returned, Vegeta had ordered several dozen mega nachos and no less then five-mega burgers to start himself off. Bulma went with a tossed chicken Caesar salad. Both of them munched on their food as they stared down at the dance floor. Already the cameras were still trained while they had a bird's eye view from a table in the upper section reserved for celebrities.

"This is acceptable," Vegeta said, glancing down. He swallowed his latest mouthful of burger, licking the ketchup from around his lips.

"So, what's the plan, your Whyness?" she asked.

"Basically you go down there and have the time of your life, and make him suffer, for starters," Vegeta grinned. "I'll keep an eye on you from here, and enjoy the view…"

"But Vegeta, won't you dance…"

"Hell no. I refuse to participate in such a lewd sport," Vegeta snorted.

"What if something…"

"Come on, I overheard the servants tell their guards to make certain you're protected. After all, you're a rich patron. The next best thing to Royalty on this paltry planet," Vegeta said. "I was not aware your social status was so… prominent…"

"Next time, believe me when I say I'm filthy rich," she winked at him.

"Don't let it go to your head baka," Vegeta snorted, throwing a French fry at her. She retaliated with a piece of ice that landed right against his chest and slid into his shirt. Growling playfully he threw ice back, and they started to wrestle.

"Hey, no ketchup on my dress, dork!" she snapped at him.

"Hmm the only thing stopping me from emptying the whole pitcher of ice on you is that it would make the other males stare at you inappropriately," Vegeta smirked. "Not that I haven't seen it myself…"

"Fool… just let me show you what you're missing! You're gonna regret not cutting a rug with Bulma…" she stuck her tongue out at him.

* * *

Getting up she threw off her beach robe and hat, then let her shirt fall down so it made a miniskirt over her bathing suit. She strode downstairs and made her way onto the dance floor, not too far from Krillen and Yamcha. Young men watched her eagerly as the blue haired beauty moved among them with fluid grace. Instantly she had at least five young men wanting to dance with her.

They formed a circle around her, laughing and encouraging with wolf whistles. She had kept the shirt on, and nobody knew quite what the heck Bejitasei meant, but most thought it was some sort of booze or a skateboarding company. Proudly she showed the moves she had mastered from watching the show earlier that day.

"Let the wet T shirt contest begin!" laughed the announcer. "Ladies… come right this way…"

Dozens of girls lined up, and the crowd of girls who were admiring her long flowing blue hair shoved Bulma. She was glad she had gotten rid of that perm, and marveled that Vegeta's power had somehow made it straight again. It swirled around her shoulders, and she reveled in the men looking her up and down like the other bathing beauties.

"Holy crap, who's THAT gorgeous babe?" Yamcha gasped, seeing the girl with the straight blue hair and T-shirt dancing and strutting her stuff. Other girls had leapt near her, and were copying her dance moves. A man leapt up and sprayed them all with a hose so their white T-shirts were saturated, showing their bikinis underneath.

"Oh my Kami, they are HOT!" gasped Krillen, blinking. Shandi and Marron were urged up by the security guards, and joined the contest. Yamcha drooled at them slack jawed, his face flushing bright red as Krillen gaped and tried to pry his jaw off the floor.

Somewhere on the television, Master Roshi and Oolong were having a field day staring at the bathing beauties. Because she wore sunglasses, Bulma's identity was somewhat concealed. Yet the large purple bruise on her neck was apparent. She had forgotten that she even had it. Then each lady leapt down as the prizes were presented. Bulma laughed as she placed third next to several prominent models.

"Who the hell does she think she is? Man…" Shandi gasped.

"She is like SO hot! I'm like SO jealous… her body is perfect…" Marron sniffed. "And she doesn't even have IMPLANTS! Those are natural!"

"How can you tell?" Yamcha drooled.

"I can tell, considering I… well I'm a model I know these things!" Marron yelled at him.

"I swear that Bejitasei must be a skateboarding company," sniffled Shandi. "That's the third time today I've seen a girl wearing it."

"Bejitasei? What the hell?" Yamcha asked, but saw the blue haired beauty with the saturated shirt reaching for a towel.

Most of the girls had thrown off their soaked T-shirts, and accepted towels to hitch around their waists at this point. Bulma felt the need to cover her hips, and did so with a pink and yellow towel that a manager tossed to her.

"All right, let's take it off! Show us what you've got ladies! Don't hide! Because So Hot is gonna let you dance till you dry off and get NUCLEAR!" the announcer laughed over the PA system. Lights flashed stroboscopically, beaming on the entire cluster of bathing beauties. All around them the girls let their swimsuits be seen, dancing on tables or on the raised stage with the band that came out. Two young guitarists and a turntable churned out the tunes with a sweaty drummer and a bassist. The lead singer swung his tattoo sleeved arm and shook his short hair as he grated into the microphone with a half raspy scream that delivered the techno rock.

"They think they're Linkin Park or something?" Krillen mumbled.

"Just about. But they're GORGEIOUS!" laughed Marron, leaping up on a table and showing what she had. Krillen groaned as she totally forgot about him, and Shandi leapt up next to her cousin. Yamcha pushed against the people gathering around the stage to dance. Many of the girls were already on the tables or on their boyfriend's shoulders as they danced to the live pulsing beat.

Bulma was swept up by several young men, and she laughed as she felt them pulling at her. Yamcha and Krillen saw her being helped up onto the table by Shandi and Marron who were already waving to get the lead singer's attention. The cameras trained on the three ladies doing their little competition. "I don't' know WHERE you learned those moves girlfriend, but I'm like DYING of jealousy!" Marron squealed. She had seen Bulma only 12 hours before with that bushy blue hair, not with it straightened out and almost identical to hers.

"Ohh I'm in HEAVEN," Yamcha laughed, leaping up on the table and sliding between Shandi and the new girl. Bulma laughed to herself as she realized Yamcha did not recognize her in the least with her new royal blue bikini and sunglasses shading her eyes. Her long string of pearls thwapped around her bust, the small ties of her bottoms swaying like those of Shandi's pink bikini. Marron's was sea foam green, and she danced right before Yamcha's sinuous moves. He imitated his fluid Wolf's style karate, gaining jealous looks from many girls boyfriends who saw him dancing with the three beach queens.

"Share the wealth!" laughed one guy, reaching up to grab Marron down.

"HEY! She's with me!" Krillen yelled. He was shoved aside as the table was mobbed by over eager patrons. Yamcha pushed them back, starting to protest as Shandi and Bulma were almost dragged from the stage.

"HEY, let GO!" Shandi shirked.

"Bugger off!" Yamcha yelled, swinging his fist back, and punching one of the patrons.

"Oh great, here we go…" Krillen groaned.

"You asshole, you broke my nose!" one beefy swim hunk yelled, hugging his face as Yamcha stuck his tongue out. Grabbing Shandi he pushed her behind him, and pushed her down as his buddy took a swing. Krillen jumped up on the table to cover his back, then yelped as he saw Marron being carted away with Bulma.

* * *

"Let me GO you dweebs, hey!" Bulma screamed, slamming her purse into the mess. She was being groped by hundreds of males hoping to get a pinch. Krillen leapt up and punched whoever it was holding her and Marron. Bulma landed in the crowd of men, screaming and kicking. Security guards rushed in, but were pushed back.

"Get your hand off that female or I'll break ever bone in your body now, losers!" someone snarled. He let his fists fly, punching patrons left and right. One man went crashing into a nearby wall, just past Yamcha. The entire room spun with a mystery rescuer that moved far faster then anyone could anticipate. All half dozen men holding onto Bulma and trying to tear her clothes off flew off in various directions. Some felt their jaws snapping like broken Raman noodles, while others felt blood erupting from their noses and mouths, feeling the breath knocked from them by an invisible fist.

Bulma huddled on the floor, curling up so the men's hands couldn't touch and squeeze her. She shivered and prayed that nobody would touch her for she suddenly felt slimy. However she felt someone leaning over her, and scooping her up in his arms. She huddled close to his chest, grabbing his pink shirt then gasping at who was holding her love cradle style.

Vegeta yelled into her ear, "What the hell is going on here? Are you trying to get yourself killed woman?"

"Dende, get me out of here!" she screamed, shaking against him.

"Wait a second… that sounded like… Bulma…" Krillen gasped, pushing Marron up onto the nearest table with Shandi. He and Yamcha were punching and fighting off the angry patrons looking for a fight. Total anarchy erupted over the whole scene, scaring Shandi and Marron. They huddled together behind their rescuers, squealing like stuck pigs.

"Hey, I saw her first!" a large male with long blonde hair said as he lay his hand on Bulma's arm. Yet he was suddenly hefted up by his throat by a short man with fiery eyes. Holding Bulma against him with one hand, he swung the man back and forth like he was a rag doll.

"What will stop me from killing you now?" Vegeta snarled.

"This isn't possible… you're not HUMAN!" the guy gasped. A wet stain spread from his pants and dripped on the floor.

"Get lost," Vegeta snarled, smashing the guy to the floor with a crunching sound like broken pencils being snapped. He made a large crater in the floor, dust flying around.

"Vegeta, I didn't know you cared," Bulma gasped.

"Anyone ELSE want a one way ticket to the hospital?" Vegeta demanded. In terror they retreated, pushing over one another towards where Yamcha and Krillen fought. Carefully Vegeta carried Bulma into the quiet area behind the extensive bar. Scratches and cuts marred her skin, and he shook his head with anger.

"Am I still alive?" Bulma whimpered.

"Did they hurt you?" Vegeta grunted, sitting her down on the varnished floor. Bulma hugged her body, shivering with fear and the rush of adrenaline.

"No… I'm… okay…" she chattered, teeth knocking together.

Vegeta tore at the buttons of his pink shirt. Getting it off, he put it around her shoulders. "Better put this on. What were you thinking? You could have been crushed or worse!"

"Don't you blame me, asshole! I wasn't the one who all but dared me to go down!"

"Dammit, you're more trouble than you're worth sometimes," Vegeta glared at her. She let him help her on with his shirt and button it around her. Tucked against his chest was her green purse. He shoved it into her hands forcefully.

"Put this on. We're leaving now. I think we've made our point…" Vegeta grunted.

She let him pick her up, nodding numbly. Effortlessly Vegeta leapt up to the bar, and glanced around. He debated simply flying out, but then saw a familiar face saunter over.

"You… you nearly killed my friend…" gasped another muscle bound surfer type in muscle shirt and spandex shorts. Vegeta thrust him aside, carrying Bulma in his other arm. The man flew ten feet into a nearby table, which cracked cleanly into two pieces. By the time everyone looked for his attacker, Vegeta shot out of the club in a blue streak of fire.

"Who started this!" the manager yelled. The Dance Party camera crew ran for their lives, pushing their way past bouncers piling on the crowd.

"They did!" yelled the man who Yamcha had hit, holding his bleeding nose. "Those two shrimps! The Scar Face and the cue ball!"

"Arrest them!" the Manager yelled to a squad of police who had just arrived. Krillen and Yamcha were suddenly hauled down from the table and escorted off with several other offenders.

* * *

"Make way you losers unless you want to die!" Vegeta snarled.

Vegeta half flew as he shoved his way through the crowd, dragging Bulma. She clung tightly to his neck, shivering in fear. Finally open air blasted her body, and she saw that they were on the strip of remote beach just outside the back door of the club. Sirens wailed and split Vegeta's sensitive ears, causing him to wince.

"Holy shit, what just happened?" she gasped.

"Revenge. Isn't it sweet?" Vegeta laughed. "Although I didn't anticipate it breaking into a full scale riot… why is it that you're nothing but trouble?"

"It wasn't MY idea! I didn't think this would happen! Damn…" Bulma blinked, seeing the entire club emptying of people. Music had ground down to a halt while police marched several suspects out of the door. The manager groaned, tearing at his towel with his teeth. Bulma leapt down from Vegeta's arms and wandered over to him.

"Woman, are you insane?" Vegeta gasped, rushing after her. "Come back here at once!"

"It's only fair we pay them for what we started," Bulma snorted at him, rushing over with her purse, that Vegeta had thankfully saved.

"I'm ruined!" he yelped. His eyes flared wide when he saw the girl wearing a pink Badman shirt around her otherwise scantily clad form. Bulma scribbled out a check, and tore it off. She waved it before his face, chuckling at the sight of his pupils shrinking to small dots in his saucer-sized eyes bugging out.

"Here, don't feel bad. Here's a check for one million Zeni. That should cover the damages to your club… if there's anything Capsule can do for you, let me know," Bulma said.

"Kuso… are you serious… you can break up my club anytime for that much!" he gasped, pocketing the check and kissing her hand. "Ma'am… you're too good to be true…"

"Here's an extra 1000 for your trouble," she whispered in his ear, placing the bills in his pocket. He nodded dumbly, as Bulma strutted off to where Vegeta was glowering at her.

"Are we done?" Vegeta snorted.

"We're done. Where to next?" she asked.

"Anywhere but this lame side show," Vegeta snorted, scooping Bulma up in his arms and rocketing away before anyone could see them leaving. One moment they were there, then the next gone like magic.

* * *


	10. Coupe de Grace

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z. Toriyama and Toei animation co do. I only own Shandi. This is a work of fan fiction. I don't get paid for this, and this means no harm to the series!

A Taste of Heat

By Trynia Merin

Chapter 8 Coupe de Grace

* * *

Tucked in Vegeta's brawny arms, Bulma glanced at the chaos far below. Police lights stroboscopically swept the crowd and TV crew for ZTV with beams of blue and white light. The entire Dance Party Live team had pulled their garishly painted orange and green bus to the safety of a Police line do not cross tape that ran the perimeter of the scene. He hovered for a time to get a good look at their handiwork while Bulma beat on his chest irritatedly.

"I think whatever happened, we over did it! I didn't want to incite a RIOT, you dork!" she snorted.

"It wasn't MY fault that your species has such a capacity for violence. Perhaps they aren't so weak after all," Vegeta snickered.

"Asshole," she snorted. "We could have KILLED someone…"

"Nobody died, so why are you whining. If it wasn't for ME, you'd be carted off with those other weaklings in an ambulance!" Vegeta snarled at her.

"Thanks a lot for ridding me of 1 million zenni! Good Lord Vegeta…" she said sarcastically. His pink Bad Man shirt ruffled lightly in the afternoon wind. Vegeta glanced down past her scowling face to see Yamcha and Krillen despondently climbing into the back seat of a police hovercar, along with their two dates. Both women were covered head to toe in beer, nacho cheese, and various other condiments. Scratches adorned Yamcha and Krillen's faces; their fine clothes were in tatters.

"You wanted to get even, so there," Vegeta snorted. He turned in the air, pointing down with a shake of his head. Lightly the spikes fluttered like a bird's plumage. For a moment Bulma wondered if it was the same principle. Each bit of hair was soft, yet had the resilience of a quill standing on end.

"How can busting up a club be getting even?" she asked, blinking at him.

"Well, we didn't do the busting up. Those idiots down there did. I'm sure that those whores dancing on stage would have a similar response even if you weren't shamelessly strutting with them. If I recall, it was that idiot Dim Sum who threw the first punch. It was a powder keg and it only needed a match to light it," Vegeta laughed. Bulma regarded him pecularily, then vibrated with small tremors to keep herself from laughing.

"I was the match, right?" Bulma guessed.

"Well, I would say you were one of the matches. But it was amusing to see him get arrested, wasn't it?" Vegeta snickered. "Admit it, you're trying awfully hard not to laugh… but I know better."

"I should be pissed at you. But I have to admit it WAS funny to see Yamcha get arrested, and have his girlfriend almost run off with another guy… but Krillen…" she giggled, finally letting herself enjoy the scene. Nobody was seriously hurt, and she felt a secret thrill that Vegeta had come to her rescue like a knight in shining armor.

"If Baldy's stupid enough to associate with Bright Buns, then he deserves to share his sorry fate! I thought he had more sense then that!" Vegeta smirked.

"You are evil!" she hiccuped, holding her stomach from side splitting laughter. "This is so wrong… but it's funny in a sick twisted way…"

"Your show Jackass does way worse things. Come on, those humans are eating it up. That club's going to be far more famous because of its infamy. So you did them a favor that absurd Dance Party Live couldn't top," Vegeta pointed out.

"Yeah… I never thought of it like that," Bulma said with a faraway look in her eyes.

"And now you have them in your debt because you offered to put down money for them to rebuild. You realize how much power that gives you?" Vegeta further added, his voice deepening. Bulma was silent at these words, focussing on the intensity burning behind his midnight black eyes. Serious intelligence crackled there, a rival for her own. It was then she realized there was no way she would want to spend time with any other male after Vegeta. He made them all look boring and weak in comparison.

"And anyway, I wasn't the one entering that ridiculous wet T shirt contest! What were you thinking? I thought you'd just make the bakayarous jealous because you were far more attractive then their sluts…" Vegeta said. He rocketed off, causing Bulma to yelp momentarily and catch hold of his shoulders. He delighted in her squeezing herself to him for safety, but he would not admit it out loud.

"Did you just call me attractive?" Bulma asked sweetly.

"But no, you had to go and do something idiotic…" Vegeta continued to rant, then stopped when he noticed Bulma giving him a goofy smile. Horror filled his face at the fondness brimming in her blue eyes. With a sigh she lay her head in his shoulder and wrapped her arms around him to hug him.

"Aww, my hero," she purred, kissing his cheek softly.

"Never mind that, do you realize how much trouble your stupidity can get you into, and I'm the one who has to save your imbecilic ass?" Vegeta yelled at her. Bulma's eyes widened, and her face crumpled in momentary frustration that he'd burst her romantic bubble.

"Hey bud, you were the one who ENCOURAGED me to dance!" Bulma sniffed at him, closing her eyes and sticking her nose in the air as she folded her arms across her chest.

"Not like a Idsarjin belly dancer! You have no shame do you?' Vegeta scolded her, enjoying the gleam in her blue eyes that sparkled like fine sapphires. Inside them was a flame that matched his own in passion. If only she could stop being so syrupy sweet and accept what he'd offered. Yet he perceived she still saw this as a big joke.

"Well, you told me, and I just followed YOUR lead, your majesty. And why should you bitch and moan because you were quite happy with the result!" Bulma retaliated, baring her teeth at him.

"I'll allow it this time, but if any male lays a hand on you like that again, he'll answer to me," Vegeta growled, showing his sharp canines. Within his throat vibrated an animalistic growl that sent shivers down Bulma's spine.

Blue eyes shrank in shock, and she almost lost her grip on him if he didn't clutch her waist with his strong hands. She gasped, "What was that?"

"Are you deaf as well as stupid, woman? I said that if any male is fool enough to lay hands on you, he'll find himself eating through a straw if he's still alive enough to stand," Vegeta snarled. Bulma's heart again melted, bringing a huge smile to her face. Brimming again with warmth she threw her arms around his neck. Once more, Vegeta was at a loss for words. He stammered, flickering his dark irises from left to right. Intense eyes widened, raising his brows to a very unfamiliar position resembling shock.

"Why Vegeta, were you jealous?" she said in a teasing sing song voice. Vegeta's brow wrinkled again.

"You really ARE hopeless without a male to take care of you," Vegeta snorted in disgust. "Just as well I took on the task. You are nothing but trouble!"

"Aww, you ARE jealous. How sweet," Bulma purred, kissing his cheek. She rubbed her cheek against his, squeezing him close to her body so her breasts pressed to his chest, and her fingers twined in his hair.

"Stop that at once! I am NOT sweet! I'm a warrior, not some soft weak touchy feeling wimp like most earth men in those stupid trashy movies!" he hollered at her.

"I'm glad you aren't," Bulma winked at him, rubbing his chest. Vegeta smelled the sweet scent of her arousal filling the air like fine perfume.

"Because I'm spoiled because of you," she continued, licking his ear softly.

"Don't you forget it, woman," Vegeta snorted. "Remember who gave you that mark."

"Vegeta… what you said before about me being… yours… what the hell does that mean?" Bulma frowned at him, blue brows twisting into a position that mirrored his own. It gave Vegeta an odd jolt of familiarity. Nostrils flaring, he tightened his grip on her, squeezing her ass cheeks lightly. A slow smirk came over his face when he realized she was finally starting to comprehend the situation.

"What do you THINK? I can't understand how someone so smart at fixing things can say things that make her look like a total buffoon! It's damn embarrassing! Just WHAT possessed me to mark you is beyond my comprehension! You'll be the death of me!" Vegeta ranted.

"Aww calm down, it isn't THAT bad," she said, still thinking he was playing a game with her. "Nobody's busted up a club for me before…"

"Humph, I'm not nobody… I'm…" Vegeta opened his mouth, but Bulma ran right over him.

"The Prince of all Saiyans, I got it. Sheesh, you're a broken record!" Bulma imitated his voice. "But you're still incredibly hot when you get all protective and jealous…"

"If you're stupid enough to put yourself out, why should I give a shit if you get carried off and gang banged…" Vegeta huffed, his face turning red. He glanced away, eyes shut for a moment with his sensation of foolishness.

"You like me, don't you?" Bulma said quietly. "Aww Vegeta… you really do…"

"What part of MINE don't you understand! Dammit Woman… must you persist in this…" Vegeta spluttered, frustrated and flustered beyond words.

"Vegeta-chan, you're entirely too much…" she gasped, and then threw her arms around his neck to hug him fiercely. She hummed and massaged his back muscles, and any part of him she could reach.

"Stop that, I can't concentrate when you're hanging on me like some antaean leech!" he snapped.

"You can fuck and fly at the same time, so what's the difference!" Bulma sniffed, hurt that he was flinching away from her soft kiss.

"Infuriating… female… you drive me insane!" Vegeta shook his head. Bulma giggled and leaned over to press a kiss to his lips. Grunting in frustration Vegeta flinched. Yet he did enjoy the way in which her fingers were massaging his neck.

"C'mon… admit it… you WERE jealous, and you DO care. But I promise I won't tell anyone. Or else you can blast me, okay?" Bulma whispered, nibbling his ear.

"Fine, whatever. Can we wait till we get home? Unless you WANT me to drop you!" Vegeta said crankily.

"Not when I enjoy how your hands feel on me," she whispered. Vegeta flickered his eyes towards her, and let a low growl escape his throat. Only a few miles from Capsule he fell out of his sub sonic speed, hovering within view of Capsule's main dome.

"Idiot," he mumbled. Bulma caught his surprised gasp in a soft kiss that deepened to something more. Vegeta let go of her, and she screamed against his lips for a moment when her support vanished. Forced to hang onto him her nails dug into his back. Then he bound her possessively to his hips so she was facing him, her back to the sheer ten thousand feet drop below.

"IEE! Don't drop me!" she yelped, wrapping her legs around him.

"Humph, you're awfully cooperative now," he said, locking his hands around her back. "You amuse me too much to let you plummet to your death… so stop squealing like a pig…"

"Don't ever let me fall Vegeta… please…" she begged.

"I won't let you fall Woman. Not when I'm getting used to your nonsense," Vegeta smirked. "Besides you're far more entertaining then most of these rejects… in fact you're the reason I haven't blown this ball sky high…"

"That sounds pretty nasty, but incredibly sweet of you at the same time… but forget I said so, okay?" she whispered, kissing his cheeks, then nibbling on his ear.

"At last you're making sense. Took you long enough," Vegeta answered in a low purr. "Now let's get back home… and we can continue to celebrate our victory appropriately…"

"Victory?" she giggled.

"Revenge IS sweet, isn't it? You enjoyed it as much as I did. You've got a capacity for mischief that rivals my own…" he whispered, then cut off her answer with a slow kiss that burned through her like his ki.

* * *


	11. Lemonade?

_Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z. Toriyama and Toei animation co do. I only own Shandi. This is a work of fan fiction. I don't get paid for this, and this means no harm to the series! Warning, Vegeta or Bulma might seem OOC to some, but this is a PWP written as practice!_

**A Taste of Heat**

By Trynia Merin

_Lemonade anyone?_

* * *

Much later Vegeta stretched out on the marvelous king sized bed then crawled over to his woman lying there. Inside his new suite down the hall from Bulma's he relished the near royal accommodations with a sense of pride. Done up in royal blue, the sheets, counterpane and curtains sang with the colors he was most comfortable with. It was starkly masculine, no frills anywhere present. All of his items had been neatly packed away by Mrs. Briefs and her bots. At first he had been almost furious to see his things being carted away, but one look from the baka Mrs. Briefs had quelled his nerves.

Bulma opened the door to his room, carrying a silver bucket wiht a bottle protruding. She set it down at the side of the bed, then plunked two goblets down next to it. Vegeta motioned for her to join him, patting the bed beside him. "About time you showed up. I take it that beverage is appropriate for such an occaision?"

"You could say so. But next time YOU get the champagne," she snorted, crawling onto the bed. She set the ice bucket between them and twisted the wire holding the cork on.

"It's under pressure..." Vegeta observed, then leapt up as the cork exploded out of the top. "Shimatta!"

"Relax, that's supposed to happen," Bulma giggled, shoving both glasses one after the other under the stream. She then relocated the bucket to the bedside table.Taking both glasses she handed one to him, and glanced at him expectantly.

Vegeta saw Bulma pick up a glass and sip it daintily. He threw back a full glass, the held it out for Bulma to refill. He lifted a quizzical black brow when she held her glass near his. "Don't tell me you haven't heard of a toast..." she sighed.

"I'm not some uncivilized boor. You're mistaking me for Nappa," he snorted indignantly.

"To the success of our revenge," Bulma said. Vegeta nodded, clinking his glass to hers.

She rolled over and smiled at him, tipping more of the golden fizzy beverage into his goblet. She raised hers to his, clinking glasses. Holding hers to her lips she took a sip, then asked, "So, you're not that pissed we moved you into the house? You said you wanted quarters like mine…"

"It's satisfactory," he nodded, leaning his head against one folded arm.

There came a knock at the door, and they both stiffened. "It's only your baka mother… with food," Vegeta snorted.

"Yoo-hoo, am I interrupting anything in there? I have some food for the nice young man…" Bunny's cheerful voice cooed.

"Thank you, serving woman," Vegeta said. "You may enter…"

The door swung open, admitting Bulma's blonde mother in tight jeans and tube top. Over her shoulder she carried a huge tray. She grinned as she glanced at them reclining in Vegeta's bed, and said, "Oh, you like your new room! I'm so glad!"

Laying on his side he faced her, admiring how nicely her body filled out the silk blue nightgown draped around her. Clad only in black silk boxers and his robe, he smiled smugly at the blonde setting the tray of sandwiches between them. He said, "It is satisfactory. Now, will you leave us? "

"Don't mind me, you two. Just have fun. I'll make sure nobody disturbs you… from doing whatever it is you're doing…" Bunny winked.

"Very good. You're dismissed, and your services will be well rewarded," Vegeta said politely. Bulma fought the urge to protest, but realized he could be nastier than he was at this time. It was eerie to see him so polite towards her.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," she said, whispering to Bulma.

"MOM!" she shrieked, as her mother tiptoed off and giggled. The door clicked shut.

"I have to admit your mother isn't as stupid as she looks," said Vegeta. "In fact she's downright… tolerable as of late…"

"Vegeta, she's NOT a slave…" Bulma spluttered.

"But she is a servant, and knows her place, as you must. And I wish to have you enjoy the pleasure of my company now," he said as he reached for one of the sandwiches on the tray between them. Mrs. Briefsasked no questions seeing Bulma there, Vegeta noted.

"Oh Vegeta what am I going to do with you…" she sighed.

"Finishing what we were doing earlier I hope, woman. That is if you have any good sense," Vegeta snorted.

"All right you've got me there, but when we're done we need to have a little chat about recent developments," she nodded, reaching up to pull him down. Bulma leaned up and tucked a hand into his spiky cone of hair, finding it surprisingly soft. Just how it defied gravity was a mystery she'd ponder later.

"Do me a favor and shut up, or do I have to make you?" he snorted. Leaning towards her he wrapped his hand holding the glass behind her head. His lips met hers.

Now she simply enjoyed covering his mouth in a kiss. He still had a bit of stiffness when he kissed her, but he was improving each time. Rolling her under him, he lay himself across her fragile body, and moaned as she parted her white legs to let him lie between them. Soon he rid himself of his shorts and sandals. Bulma shyly sat up as he lifted himself off, and examined her with a smoky glare.

"Most adequate indeed," he whispered, fingering the silk of her nightgown.

"You mean I'm not hideous?" she asked, fingering his widow's peak.

"You're still quite an ugly thing, but I suppose you're fortunate that I lowered my standards, considering what limited selections this third pebble from the sun has to offer…" he breathed deeply.

"Well you're an arrogant stuck up prick, among all the males in the world," Bulma winked at him.

"Don't you forget it," he answered, drawing his hand over her cheek.

"Am I your hideous female then?" she purred.

"Who else would put up with your shit," Vegeta grinned.

"I suppose someone has to put up with the prince of all Assholes… and I guess I'm the only one stupid enough to," Bulma sighed over dramatically.

"Nobody else has the balls to tell you how annoyingly shrewish you are, and what a spoiled rotten bitch you can be…" Vegeta smirked, lowering his face to rain small bites on her chest.

"That makes two of us, your Royal Pain in my ass," she sighed, laying with her arms spread wide. "You're like a disease I can't recover from…"

"Likewise you're equally bad for my health, woman. An addiction I can never recover from," he murmured, reaching down with bare hands instead of gloves to caress her body with very soft hands.

She closed her eyes, shivering with the contact of his skin on hers, with no barriers between them. He pushed her thighs apart, and she rested her ankles on either shoulder when he lifted her hips. Growling savagely he thrust into her with a sharp jab that made her scream.

She hung onto him, feeling his relentless savage assault. Blue chikara soaked into her body, increasing her strength so she could bite on his shoulder, his neck and rock her hips down. She embraced him hard from the inside, bringing her legs down to crush his torso in a death grip that would have made Xenia Onatop from James Bond proud.

"Harder! I'm not afraid of you," she yelled.

"Be careful what you ask for!" Vegeta grunted, mercilessly making love her. His fingers dug into her skin, funneling more of his personal ki into her body to compensate for her weariness.

"Vegeta… I need you," Bulma cried out at the power flooding through her body, making her feel like a goddess. Very slowly he had accustomed her to higher ki levels so she now radiated with far more than an average human could take.

" Tell me who you belong to!" Vegeta snarled.

"I… I don't BELONG to anyone!" she sniffed.

"Wrong answer, naughty female. You belong to me," Vegeta snarled.

Bulma suddenly blinked, stiffening in his arms. Her blue eyes widened as he floated ten feet above the bed, holding her to his powerful sizzling form with his hands alone. She stammered, "You mean… you're serious… that I… you and me… are a couple?"

"That's partly right, Bulma. You're mine completely though, to do with what I will," Vegeta answered, his dark bottomless midnight eyes staring at hers.

"Shimatta I'm such an idiot!" she gasped, shivering at the implications. "I'm… actually… yours… for real? Like girlfriend and boyfriend? Or lovers, or what?"

"For real as in mates. More specifically as the one and only female that I'll ever require," Vegeta rumbled. "You call it married as in husband and wife…"

"Thank Kame," she sighed. "Because I don't want anyone else…"

"Fortunate for you. Because I'd have to kill them," Vegeta answered, not at all joking. "That means you have to obey me… got it?"

"Mmm, I think I can live with that. But don't blow up the planet if you get pissed all right? Can you promise me that?"

"I suppose I can," he snickered, as she leaned up to kiss him hungrily. He locked her in his arms, impaling her deeply with huge thrusts that made her scream. Every cell of her body vibrated with sheer immeasurable power.

"Ohh Vegeta… don't stop… I need you… I can't take it…" she whimpered.

"That's right… I have the power of life and death… make no mistake," he said with a wicked smile that somehow melted her heart.

A shuddering force of power shook her, tingling her loins with energies that would have vaporized a human not accustomed to such a high level of ki. Bulma let loose with a scream, realizing the thin film of his ki was shared between them both, keeping her from being destroyed. She tightened around his naked form blistering with terrible power, and hugged him tightly. Knowing she was the only one who dared and could.

"I'm yours forever, Your Majesty…" she sighed. "To do with as you will…"

"That's my woman," Vegeta purred. Caught up in his awesome power, she screamed his name once more when his hot royal seed seared her womb.

The next moment she lay there pressed in the bed with his sweating body. She stroked his hair aside, looking lovingly up into those terrible eyes that she could not tear herself away from. Terrible, yet wonderful and savagely beautiful. It was as if she was connected to a force of nature, not a being. He could destroy worlds with a blast, but here she was, belonging to him.

"Don't ever stop protecting me, Vegeta-sama," she whispered in his ear.

"Foolish Bulma, I do as I will. And that includes keeping your ass out of trouble even if you do make a nusance of yourself. However… you'll have to learn some manners as the Prince's chosen mate. Or else there will be punishment…" he crowed.

"P… punishment?" Bulma gasped. She reached up to touch the mark on his neck that she had made, speechless.

He gave a smug smile, and knew at long last she recognized the significance of the marks that graced her body. Contentedly she dozed in his arms, and Vegeta held his new possession closely to him, determined not to let this amusement go. She was something more than he wanted to admit, but she would learn the significance beyond mere satiation soon enough. Yet not till he had defeated the enemy, and could claim what was rightfully his.

* * *


	12. My Name is Mud

_Disclaimer: I don't own Bulma or Vegeta. Or Dragon ball Z. Toriyama, Toei Animation Co limited do. This is fan fiction._

_Notes: For some that figure Bulma and Vegeta seem a bit ooc here, one explanation is that they're suffering from addiction. Bulma to Vegeta's ki, and Vegeta to Bulma's presence. In other words both are addicted to love! If that sounds sappy, please forgive me, because it IS a PWP! In this chapter both of them suffer some resentment to what just happened, and suffer the withdrawl of being away from one another… eventually._

**A Taste of Heat**

**_My Name Is Mud_**

* * *

Bulma moaned, feeling battered, bruised, and achy in places she didn't know she even had. Slowly she rolled over, patting the place next to her. It was vacant, with only the residual heat of the Prince left to tell her he'd been present. 

"Damn it, I knew it was too good to last," she grumbled, rolling over. Royal blue curtains obscured the room, and she managed to sit up. Oddly enough she felt refreshed as she let her feet hit the floor. Bulma grabbed the royal blue robe that belonged to him, smelling his scent on it.

"I was such a wuss last night just letting him boss me around like that," she mumbled in annoyance. Wandering down the hall in his robe, she made her way to her room, and walked inside. No doubt Vegeta had tired of her and was downstairs in his blasted GR training again.

A hard knot formed in her throat, not having him there when she woke. It was only eight thirty in the morning on a weekday, and she had hoped he would cuddle her. Perhaps it was asking too much. "Why did I let the bum sleep with me, I'm getting weak," she grumbled, rubbing her face. At the back of her mind grew a suspicion that it had all been some elaborate diversion.

"Like an idiot I played along… and now he's nowhere to be found," she grumbled, then caught sight of the nasty bruise gracing her neck. Letting the robe drop she was horrified to see the state her body was in. All over her hips were red and purple marks in the shape of male fingers, while bitemarks festooned her neck and breasts. If she hadn't known any better she would swear she had been beaten up.

"That son of a BITCH, he's DEAD!" she growled, feeling resentment that he'd been so damn careless. Her flawless flesh was pockmarked with evidence of their hard sex. What blew her away was that she should very well be DEAD if it weren't for the fact that Vegeta had poured a massive amount of his ki into her body to bridge the exponential gap between their energy levels.

Snarling various obscenities she hurled off his robe and marched into the bathroom. Anger was born of resentment at the obvious marks of his presence on her body. She cursed herself for succumbing with the ease of champagne and the fact Vegeta had saved her life. It seemed rather out of character for him, and she half wondered if he would ever return to her bed again. Why was she feeling so mixed up, she wondered.

She let the water run for a long bath. Lavender soaps slid down her bruised flesh, while Bulma scrubbed off the sweat and musk from her night of passion. Soon she felt much better massaging the soapsuds through her hair. Sighing, Bulma lay back and let herself soak in the hot water, after putting on the steam jets. All thoughts of her marked body vanished with the scent of Calgon. If she opened her eyes perhaps she would see a Grecian temple and a hundred cabana boys rushing up to massage her and such.

"That's it, I need a trip to the spa," she said, snapping up. Grabbing a towel, she wrapped it around herself, and rushed into the bedroom. She grabbed her own robe and slippers, then made her way downstairs in a hurry.

"My my, aren't we a busy beaver!" her mother said.

"Mom don't use THAT word!" Bulma cried horrified.

"Aren't you glowing… did you have a good sleep?"

"Mom, stop," Bulma groaned. "Where's Vegeta?"

"Your young man ate breakfast early and said he'd be training all day…" said Bunny.

"Great, it figures…"

"Well he DOES have to work…"

"Which is why I wanted to ask you if you'd be up to a trip to the spa today?"

"Ohh dear, you read my MIND!" Bunny laughed, hugging Bulma. "It's been AGES! I'll make the call right away…"

"French Lick Springs," said Bulma. "The one with the CUTE cabana boys, and the mud baths…"

"Oh you know it! It will be SO fun!" Bunny laughed, rushing over to the phone. Bulma smiled, knowing a little pampering could chase any of the blues away. Hopefully those bruises would be unnoticed as she was immersed in a mud bath. Then when Vegeta came and saw she was missing, he would probably get annoyed. Maybe jealous?

That is if he noticed she was gone, Bulma thought to herself gloomily. Sighing she grabbed some coffee and a few croissants. After Bunny chirped her reservations over the phone, she came back, beaming to Bulma who was finishing the last golden flaky bits.

"We're all set for ten AM… oh this will be WONDERFUL! We'll get a massage, mud bath, and skin treatment, pedicure… full facial… we'll be NEW women! Won't that be FUN for our men?" she asked.

"Yeah, they'll miss us, right? I hope…" Bulma fretted.

"Are you worried that he's forgotten you?" asked Bunny, giving her a kiss on the cheek. "Cheer up, princess… he's just being a MAN, and they get SO into their work that they'll snap into shape the instant they see us missing! Your father would get these spells when he'd be in his lab for DAYS… but he always DID come back to bed at night…"

"You always DID say men needed women for food and sex," grumbled Bulma. "And I think you're right… dang it…"

"That's my girl. Now let's get ready! I can't WAIT to spend the day with my little girl. You have to tell me ALL about what you and that wonderful young Prince Charming did yesterday…"

"Good grief, I don't know if this was such a good idea," she mumbled. She had hoped to get her mind OFF of Vegeta, not dwell on him!

* * *

Vegeta had berated himself for momentary bouts of 'weakness', but yesterday he was still reeling from. Had he actually admitted he liked her? "Damn it, I'm getting fucking soft… this damn planet…" 

He grumbled various obscenities in a half dozen galactic tongues. One bot smashed to smithereens with a stray punch. Mumbling he went over every last event in his mind, wondering what had possessed him to act so… so… NICE. It was that bloody blue haired earth female no doubt. For some reason he was reduced to this simpering weakling in her presence. He didn't like it.

Perhaps he was addicted to the sex. Was that it, Vegeta asked himself? It dawned on him that he enjoyed that high. Since that was the case, he would do anything in his power to obtain it. Was that the basis of addiction? From his study of human culture addiction was something that one either controlled or didn't. In Vegeta's case, he was addicted to the high he got from obtaining power. Nothing felt better to him than proving he was the best. IN the woman's case, she enjoyed flirting with danger, smoking cigarettes, and other various substances.

"Am I addicted to HER?" Vegeta shuddered. Such that he would abandon all reason when wanting the high he got from having sex with her?

"Damn it," Vegeta cursed. "She's making me weak. That's it. Whenever I'm around her I abandon my true self. This can't be tolerated… and yet…"

Throwing his towel around his neck he marched into the locker room. Resentfully he fingered the mark on his neck where she had bitten him. A low sigh flowed throughout his body, and he realized soberly what he had done. With that mark she had sealed both their fates. "What have I done… what the hell has SHE done?" he thought. Perhaps she had beguiled him, or bewitched him. Or else he was at fault for letting her get under his skin.

"I can't let this go on. I need… to take CONTROL," he thought. Sighing he glanced about the ship, and knew his answer.

"This GR's a space craft. Perhaps I need to remove the source of addiction," Vegeta thought. Grimly he weighed his options. Addiction and weakness, and the chance of losing his position in the power struggle to regain supremacy over Kakkarot versus isolation from the source of the problem and his guaranteed success.

"Since she's already my mate, she belongs to me regardless. She has to see that she does not rule me," he nodded with a grunt as he showered, and went about making preparations. By the time she returned he would be long gone.

* * *

By the time Bulma immersed herself chin deep in mud, Vegeta was drifting out of her mind. A feeling of total relaxation claimed her body and soul with the seeping warm mud flowing around her. Sighing, she let them apply pieces of cucumber to cover her eyes, then leaned back as they applied the compound to her face. Every bruise melted, and she was again feeling pretty. 

"I let him boss me around like a total dweebette," she reflected.

Floral scents seemed to bring back all reason. Her mother sighed blissfully next to her, "Isn't this the BEST?"

"Yes, it is."

"Next to sex of course," giggled her mother.

"Don't remind me," Bulma grumbled. Each event from the last few days she replayed, cursing herself for letting Vegeta order her around like that. If it had been any man, she would have not let him tell her the score. So why on earth did she allow Vegeta?

"Am I addicted to him?" she thought. Whenever they had been together, she had relished the highs of that crackling blue…

"Kuso… can I be addicted to his… his ki?" she thought in horror. She sat straight up, letting dark mud slide off her. Anger filled her, and she knew what she had to do.

"All right Vegeta, you think you're so smart making a fool of me…" she growled.

"Bulma dear, you NEED to lay still if…"

"Sorry Mom, just… having some difficulty relaxing," Bulma apologized. "I'm ready for a massage now…"

Quickly the attendants came forwards to help her out of the mud bath, and prepare her for the next step. Being waited on hand and foot reminded her that SHE was every bit as royalty in her own way as that alien Prince. If anything he should be pampering HER, not the other way around. Why she put herself into a subservient role was clear: it was to obtain that high from being around his chikara or ki.

"I'm such a pushover," she thought as they guided her toweled form onto a massage table. Two ladies smeared oil on their hands and began to work their fingers up and down her spine. Bulma released all tension in her body, thinking that she had figured out the problem.

Yet what was the solution, she wondered. Should she quit cold turkey, or find a means of replacing one addiction with another? Carefully she weighed the options: letting herself be dominated by a rude arrogant male, who only would deliver if she groveled, or cutting him off so she could regain her self respect?

The option was clear. "I have to stop this now. Find someone else or something else that gives me that high… but what?" Bulma thought. Perhaps some time away would clear her head.

* * *

Hours later, Vegeta flipped switches on the space ship console. He pulled on his spandex AE suit, and donned his armor. Preflight checks were all performed, and he had obtained enough food capsules to last him for at least six months. Dr. Breifs face flickered on the view screen, and Vegeta punched the button. "What do you want, old man?" 

"Just making sure you've got all systems go," he said.

"Everything checks out. You'll be compensated for your assistance," Vegeta said.

"Heh, just enjoy your trip. Send me regular reports on your progress and we'll call it even," Dr. Breifs said nervously.

"My thanks, now leave me be," Vegeta snorted, punching the button and banishing Dr. Brief's face from his console. Another button depressed fired up the booster rockets. Around him Capsule 4 vibrated into life, rumbling through his boots. Such a primitive native spacecraft that required fuel, he thought to himself. As long as it took him into space, it didn't matter what conveyance he used.

Settling down into his chair, Vegeta ran his fingers over the coordinate buttons then checked his systems. Slowly the ship began to rise into the air. Gravity crushed down on him, but it was only a mere fraction compared to what he was used to training in. Far lesser than the heaviness of whatever addiction had bound him to this world.

Out of the corner of his eye he glimpsed the screen. An air car was returning from a day's trip. He sensed a presence in his thoughts, then struggled to expunge it.

* * *

Bulma and her mother pulled up their air car. Both of them were chattering and admiring one another's fresh manicures and pedicures. A whole host of bags were stuffed into the trunk. While Bulma pulled up to the main garage, her mother glanced around the estate. Her woman's intuition told her something was amiss. 

Several gate guards rushed up to the aircar that pulled to a stop. Rolling down her window, Bulma regarded the servant. "Enjoy your shopping Ma'am and Miss Briefs?"

"Yes. Could you go around and empty the bags? Take them to our rooms?" she asked.

"Of course Miss Briefs," the guard waved to several servants who rushed out.

"Pull the car into the garage and wax it, there's a good boy," Mrs. Briefs smiled sweetly, winking at the young men. Both ladies climbed out then walked homewards towards the main dome. Holding her hails out before her, Bulma nodded in satisfaction.

"Red is so your color darling," Bunny nodded in confirmation. She glanced down at the dusty pink she had selected.

"I think that he's going to flip when he sees it on you, right?" Bulma whispered.

"Your father is a sucker for a freshly pedicured woman," Bunny giggled.

Suddenly a low roar split the silence. Both women felt the earth rumbling under their sandalled feet. Bulma felt a horrid sense of something amiss. Quickly she broke into a run, heading towards her father's lab area. It could be only one thing, a spacecraft.

"OH DEAR, we have a spacecraft thief!" Bunny screamed, racing after her daughter.

"Shimatta… who on Chikyuu," Bulma cursed, forgetting all about nail polish and things feminine. Fire and smoke belched from a launch facility perhaps a quarter mile away.

Gracefully one of the spherical Capsule craft rose from its launch bay, engines ablaze. Red and white flames propelled it on an ever rising stream of smoke towards the heavens. On its side she could read Capsule 4 in tiny letters if she shielded her eyes with one hand. Her scientific brain grew numb with the possibilities.

"He didn't… did he?" Bulma gasped. The bottom dropped out of her soul at that moment. Numbly she raced into the lab complex.

Dr. Breifs shuffled down the hallway, singing to himself with joy. His new craft was getting tested for the longest stint since that lad Goku had taken one to Namek. Perhaps now he could get some peace and quiet without that blasted GR room blowing up every few days. He scratched his kitty under its chin, laughing, "Finally, no more long nights… eh?"

"Daddy!" Bulma called to him, rushing up. "What happened? Who took the craft…"

"Why that young man of course. He volunteered to test Capsule 4…"

"Vegeta… that son of a…" Bulma growled. She raced towards the complex.

"Bulma honey, it's too late… I gave my permission…" Dr. Briefs said. "Wait!"

"I'll teach HIM to leave me! That BASTARD! The NERVE of him leaving me before I yell at him!" Bulma screamed in anger.

By the time he caught up to her, he saw her standing looking at the launch complex through the observation window. Hands were clenched at her sides in fists. Tears rolled down her cheeks. "How COULD he! I was just going to give him a piece of my mind that he can't boss ME around! I can't BELIEVE he'd…"

"Honey, what's wrong? I thought you'd be GLAD to be rid of him, considering how much you complain about…" Dr. Briefs said quietly.

"Yeah, well I'm GLAD he's gone, good riddance!" Bulma spat, flouncing away from the screen. She stomped off, wiping away angry tears. Perplexed, her father rested his hands on his hips, watching his little girl rush back towards the house.

"I swear women are STILL a mystery to science," he thought.

Bulma struggled to convince herself that it was the best thing. He had forced her to quit cold turkey. Perhaps he had sought to do this all along, humiliate her by giving her a taste of him, then depriving her. Maybe it was simply a Saiyan thing, to love a female and leave them. All that remained of him was that nasty purple bruise on her neck and an ache that wouldn't go away.

Sadly she glanced up at the blue skies, brushing away tears. Anger faded to that strange numb emptiness. Grumbling, she turned away, and sought the safe refuge of her lab. "Good riddance, I don't need HIM anyway!" she thought to herself.

"Who am I trying to kid," she whispered, pulling on a lab smock and retreating to her lab for the next few weeks.

* * *


	13. Vegeta's Return, and a little surprise

**A Taste of Heat**

By Trynia Merin aka Polymer aka StarbearerTM

**_Return of the Prince_**

_Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z, Toriyama does, as does Toei and Funimation who give us these great DVD episodes! Don't sue me! This is fanfiction, not for profit._

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* * *

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For at least four months Vegeta had been training in the Asteroid Belt. It became a game of survival just to maneuver around them in his space suit, sending blue beams of ki to skim from one rock to another. Vegeta dodged and flipped like a buzz saw, from a large dumbbell shaped meteoroid to land on another. Black dust kicked up all around him, shadowing his view of the Capsule 4.

"Damn it, good job, your Majesty," he mumbled to himself, waving aside the dust. Rocks ground together, eroding the pile of rocks he stood upon, only loosely held together by its own gravity. As he felt weariness settle over him, he glanced wildly around. Where was the ship?

"Shimatta, I could swear I parked it on the iron nickel planetoid," he mumbled. Using two fingers to generate a small beam, he rocketed through space in the direction in which he last left it. To his annoyance, each rock looked the same in the field. Past his view, a rogue comet happened to sizzle by. Some inexplicable tug of fate had sent it hurtling towards the debris field near the asteroid Vesta.

Vegeta sensed the pull in the gravity well. At the last moment he felt the stone whiz by him, crashing into the loose slagheap he'd just vacated. Rocks scattered like billiard balls in three dimensions, colliding with other planetoid. In a matter of seconds the whole field was alive with the collisions. Nothing to stop the various objects from crashing and colliding he realized. What was worse was that he had no idea where his spacecraft was, and his oxygen supply was dwindling.

"Perfect. I can just see it now. The Saiyan no Ouji perishes from lack of oxygen like a weakling in a third rate star system in a fourth rate asteroid field!" Vegeta cursed, struggled to get his bearings. At least he could get a good pot shot at all the asteroids whizzing by with a narrow beam of ki. Zinging the beam from one to another he lazed each obstacle careening across his path.

Suddenly he spotted Capsule 4. The rogue comet had set off dangerous gasses, which had suddenly ignited from the force of his ki. Around him the whole asteroid field became a minefield of colliding rocks that had no way to stop except to crash into larger objects. If he didn't move quickly, the Capsule 4 would be shattered. Pushing with his mind he sent his space-suited body at full speed, reaching Capsule 4 just in time to push it steadily out of the debris field.

"Come on, move damn it," he mumbled. While it was easy to push it in space, something suddenly slammed into his back? One of the smaller rocks tore across his spacesuit, causing precious pressure to be lost. Groaning he felt the biting cold of space on his body. It meant little to a Saiyan, but he could only hold his breath for so long. A moment's concentration and he surrounded his body with a thin shield of skintight blue ki to seal off the leaks. His stomach rumbled, reminding him it had been hours since he last ate. Grumbling he finally pushed the ship clear of the explosive asteroid belt to a position 100 miles distant to watch the fireworks.

Vegeta opened the hatch and climbed wearily inside his temporary home. Dropping his shield he shed the space suit then waited for the air to pressurize. Then he left the airlock, stumbling with aches and pains from the small meteoroids that had punctured the suit and caused various bruises. It was something a good day's rest would solve.

He opened the food locker to find that he only had a few capsules left. Snorting, he clicked the button on one ration set, and threw it down. A large food locker and fridge popped out of the smoke that cleared soon afterwards. Vegeta tore off his spandex and opened the locker eagerly to dig out the food supplies he desperately needed. Like a man possessed he tore into the protein concentrate bars, narrowly avoiding stuffing his face like Kakkarot would. To wash it down he swigged a four-liter container of water. Never had rations tasted so good, he inwardly reflected.

Once he was full, he moved over to the vapor bath unit after shedding his clothes. Wearily he tipped his head back to let the hissing cleanser banish the sweat and blood from his body. A sharp acrid odor tinged his nostrils, and Vegeta felt his mind wandering. Three whole months of nothing but blessed silence in which he could push his body to the limits in the GT and outside. While he had only briefly left the Solar System, he had made his way back because he knew better. There were still pockets of the tin pot dictators who had once served under Frieza. Between them they carved up what was left of King Cold's empire, forming small resistance forces.

He smirked thinking of Kumquat's planet Alvegasei, which had fallen easily to his latest throes. The poor fools didn't know what was coming when blue death rained down. It hadn't given him as much satisfaction to destroy his erstwhile rivals, many of who had wiped out what remained of the Saiyans after Bok Choi and Frieza had destroyed his home world.

"Who am I fooling? All that blasted bloody time I was purging worlds, and not a thought to what next," he mumbled. A strange impression formed in the back of his mind. Far behind he'd left Chikyuu, and something that was a huge source of irritation. Yet in the vast spaces of infinity he felt alone, and loathed it for the first time.

"The last of my kind, the last of my royal line. Well what would you say of me now, Father?" he mumbled as he climbed out of the shower. Cold air blasted his scarred body, healing over nicely from the multiple GT inflicted wounds. A hunger filled his soul, which he sought to expunge. Striding over to one of the round portholes he gazed out at the small pinpricks of light in a sky as dark as his eyes. Although he could glimpse his reflection, something seemed to pull him to look out the opposite way. Vegeta moved along the panorama, gazing at the small planets of the chikyuu system. A small pinpoint of blue light caught his eyes, and he cursed.

"Damn blue planet. Damn blue woman," he mumbled, shaking his head. At the back of his mind he felt the desire to run his fingers through the soft fibers that crowned her head. Even hearing her shrill voice would suddenly be preferable to this vast silence. Only Kakkarot and some strange youth with lavender hair along with Goku's half-breed were the only Saiyans left.

Kakkarot had one child, but Vegeta had done nothing to perpetuate the royal line. Was it even WORHT it? While working for Frieza he hadn't given mating much thought. It was assumed he might well find a regen tank and find some method of impregnating a likely female, or else clone an offspring with technologies similar to those that helped fill the ranks of the elite. Yet there were no Saiyan females. What steps he had taken were left behind in a treasure of blue. The only female remotely acceptable on a primitive ball of rock.

He lay down on the bunk, staring up at the curved ceiling. Perhaps it was time to see if he could spar with the third class clown. Show how much his powers had improved themselves. Maybe the woman would greet him with anger, or reject him showing up out of nowhere. Far better for her to push him away while he trained for the inevitable Androids, then to risk forming an emotional attachment to divert his attention.

Yet he had to admit the mating was quite pleasurable. When he shared his ki with her, she was quite the consummate partner, matching him in wits and libido. As he lay there thinking about those blue eyes that sparked with anger, he felt blood rushing towards his loins.

Within his mind he kept the perfect image of her, which he quickly dredged up. Across space and time he retreated to meditate on that image, fixing the elusive probes to sense along the bond he'd surreptitiously formed through blood.

A baby's cry echoed, startling him out of sleep. Bold upright he sat, realizing that something was wrong. Although he sensed the ki from that little blue world, something had changed. Was it possible that Kakkarot was no longer the only one who had sired a brat?

"Shimatta, I hadn't expected so soon," Vegeta mumbled. Would she be willing after his departure to keep carrying what he thought she was? Or would she reject it as many women on Chikyuu did with unexpected pregnancies. He couldn't risk losing this slim chance at doing what he had failed to for so long: providing a future for the Royal line. Quickly Vegeta got up and rushed to the console, punching up the coordinates for Chikyuu. He had to get back before it was too late.

Fuel blazed in a last ditch attempt to curve towards earth. Vegeta pressed his finger on the ignition, as if willing the ship to go faster. Sadly the meteor storm had damaged the fuel tanks, leaving him with much less than he had thought. There was just enough to angle the craft into the atmosphere and send it hurtling towards the small island chain of West Central city. Around him the hull glowed cherry red, small sparks flying like fireflies as he bashed his way into the atmosphere.

The curved blue surface grew convex, and he felt the thrust of incoming G forces. He pressed the switch to use the last bit of fuel to bleed off enough velocity to get Capsule 4 to land in the correct trajectory. Underneath him the blue marble blew up to a checkerboard of cities and farms, then swelled to one vast metropolis.

It wouldn't do to land on top of the large dome of Capsule. Picking the best clear spot, he guided the ship towards the open lawn behind the mansion. Gritting his teeth he felt the jarring impact of the sphere into the dirt of his second home. Slowly he unclipped his seatbelt, shaking his head with the sudden stop of reentry.

Life forms clustered outside, two feeble, one strong and familiar. Vegeta rushed to the hatch, pushing it open as the last bit of fuel extended the ramp. He peered out at the reception committee consisting of a trembling blonde holding a tea service; a scar faced human with fists raised, and the blue haired object of his nightly fantasies. What the HELL had she done to her hair, he wondered in horror?

"Bakana, she fried it again! She looks like a bush!" he groaned. Anger surged at the presence of the scarred human shouting and shoving Bulma and her mother back. Vegeta fought the urge to target practice with the little blue shapeshifting cat levitating anxiously around Yamcha's shoulder.

"What are YOU doing here?" Yamcha yelled up, his fists raised for battle. Vegeta flipped head over heals, landing with both booted feet firmly planted in the ground.

"Watch it, I'm not in a good mood. I'm angry enough to HURT someone, and kicking YOU around might be the therapy I need," he snorted at Yamcha, who backed up.

"Well… um…" Yamcha stammered, stopping inches from where Bunny Briefs stood with her knees knocking together.

"Does anyone… want some tea… or coffee?" she stammered, overfilling the same cup. He didn't wish to harm her, the one decent slave who knew exactly how to cook.

"Is Kakkarot anywhere?" asked Vegeta.

"Um well… I haven't seen him around here… look, what are YOU doing here? You sure picked a great time to come crashing in here again after you LEFT!" Yamcha shouted at him.

"What business is it of yours anyhow?" Vegeta snorted, aiming two fingers at Yamcha. They flickered with blue ki, causing him to back up. At his waist he formed a fist, blazing with gold power as he summoned power for a spirit ball.

Fortunately the decision was taken out of his hands when Bulma strode up, her eyes flashing with anger. Hands formed into fists at her hips, as she shoved Yamcha out of the way and marched right to stand not two feet from Vegeta. "I THOUGHT something stank around here…"

"Bulma, stay back! He doesn't look too happy!" Yamcha cautioned.

"What, no welcome for the Prince? I'm insulted, Woman," Vegeta smirked at her.

"Oh it's you!" Bulma snorted. "So the mighty Prince returns from his grand training? What the hell brings YOU back here anyway?"

"As if I have to answer to YOU," he grumbled, glaring at her. Although the sight of her made him want to rush up and find out if what he suspected was true, pride dictated he maintain his distance.

"You've got a lot of nerve showing up here after you just up and LEFT, bud," she snarled, poking his armored chest with her finger. "Dragging your smelly monkey butt here! I ought to tell you to turn that ship right around and leave…"

"Then tell your idiot father he should have provided more FUEL," Vegeta snorted, resting his hands on his hips. "It's not MY fault your stupid engines are so freaking primitive! The only reason I came BACK here was to get more food… and have him fix the damn SHIP! After all the fuss you made about my state of hygiene the least you can do is offer to draw me a bath…"

"Use the hose out back, you philistine! Ooh you make me so MAD!" Bulma screamed at him. "I hate you, you LEFT you asshole! Without even saying goodbye!"

"Why don't you young men have a nice meal… before you start… roughhousing," Bunny Briefs said brightly, although her voice trembled.

"Get out of here, Vegeta, we're quite FINE with out you," Yamcha snapped, grabbing Bulma's shoulder and yanking her behind him. "He left YOU remember!"

"Excuse me, since WHEN did YOU have any say?" Bulma yelled at him. "You might have been a shoulder to cry on, but that does NOT make you my boyfriend again!"

"But I thought…" Yamcha spluttered.

"I'm not your leftovers, pal," Bulma yelled at him. "Just because we had a few nice cozy nights by the fire doesn't change the fact that I don't want you back like that!"

"Are you trying to tell ME, or him?" Yamcha snapped at her.

"Excuse me, this is all very entertaining, but if you don't mind, I need someone to fix this damn ship, and I'm STARVING," Vegeta coughed.

"Right this way… I'm sure we have plenty," Bunny said, as she rushed up and threaded her arm through Vegeta's. "Bulma, Yamuha dears don't be RUDE! Our guest has returned, and I think I'll fix him a snack…"

"Nani?" Yamcha stammered, glancing away from his argument with Bulma.

"Whatever, see if I care," Bulma snorted, stamping away from Yamcha. She shot Vegeta a dirty glare.

"Honey wait… you can't just let him waltz back in here like he LIVES here… hey!" Yamcha shouted, chasing after her. Vegeta moved to follow, but was stopped with Bunny's pressure on his arm.

"C'mon now, let's get you a nice shower and some food! You must be EXHAUSTED!" Bunny cooed.

"Whatever, I'm starving… and already I'm regretting returning…" Vegeta groaned, holding his sore ears at the sound of Bulma and Yamcha trading verbal pot shots.

* * *

Once Vegeta had eaten his fill of three dozen pieces of fried chicken and homemade mashed potatoes, he wandered upstairs towards the room that Bulma had last given him. He carried the milkshake that Bunny had composed for him especially, swirling the lumps of ice cream in the glass. Tipping it back into his mouth, he chugged the last bit of creamy goodness. Booted feet trod lightly up the stairs, bringing him to the floor where the guestroom was. 

It was a horrid shock to hear Bulma and Yamcha's voices echoing down the hall. Angrily he turned to Bunny who had chased him up the stairs with a stack of drying cloths. "What's happened? I thought that idiot had moved out!"

"He moved into your old apartment… and he was spending quite a lot of time in the gym while you were out training in space," Bunny explained.

"Did he…" Vegeta asked, hoping against hope that he was in time to prevent a catastrophe.

"No, nothing you should worry about… she missed you terribly…" Bunny whispered with a smile. "I'm SO glad you're back… because she's been impossible! Just moping around all day…"

"Kuso… well I suppose she'll need someone to kick her in the pants and get her to do something useful," Vegeta mumbled. "Has she been… sick or ill?"

"Well come to THINK of it she HAS been throwing up. Have you two been doing what I think you have…" she whispered.

"What are you going on about, woman?" Vegeta snorted.

"The shower's this way," Bunny urged him down the hall to his room. She opened the door, letting him walk inside first. IT was just as he had left it, with clean blue sheets on the vast king sized bed, and piles of men's clothes neatly folded on the foot of it. Vegeta saw new workout clothes, including tight spandex shorts and sneakers waiting for him.

"What's this?" he asked.

"Got you some new clothes. The spandex is SO in fashion, and we can't have a Prince wearing second rate bargain stuff can we?" Bunny grinned. "If I wasn't a married woman I'd…"

"Humph, it's adequate. You'll be compensated for your services," Vegeta grunted in gratitude. "Now leave me… I wish to shower in some peace and quiet… and I'll still quite hungry…"

"I'll fix your favorite for dinner… my word it's been dull without you here…" she laughed, rushing out and closing the door behind her.

Vegeta shook his head, then shed his spandex and armor. He threw the spandex into the hamper, plunking his boots on top to be cleaned with his battered breastplate and torn gloves. Nude, he grabbed a towel and strode into the bathroom adjoining his suite.

The shower door scraped along its track when he slid it closed. Water blasted him full force, like a thousand tiny fists. He slathered copious amounts of shampoo on his hands, inundating his stiff spiky mane with it. Tossing his head back he let the water cascade down his body, seeking that meditative state.

Vegeta gritted his teeth, hearing the voices with his sensitive Saiyan ears from next door:

"I did NOT…"

"You did SO!" yelled Yamcha.

"I didn't expect you to be my friend with fringe benefits buddy!" Bulma yelled back.

"Bulma, I care about you! So sue me! But he left you, in your current state, so why you're just letting him waltz BACK in here like nothing happened is beyond me!" Yamcha yelled.

"He just appeared! And my MOTHER invited him in! I had NOTHING to do with it!"

"So are you going to TELL him? If it were up to me, I'd throw the bastard OUT… I'm sure he's not gonna give two shits about the kid when it's born!"

"It's a Saiyan… and excuse me, he has a right to know," Bulma yelled.

"It should have been mine, Bulma. Forget him. I can take care of you both… why don't you and I get married and I can raise it as my own… he doesn't have to know…" Yamcha implored. Vegeta's eyes widened, and he felt his anger boiling.

"That son of a bitch… he wouldn't DARE," Vegeta snarled.

"Yamcha, I can't. It's not right. He needs to know he's going to be a father. I won't let you take advantage of me like this… before you know it we'll just be arguing again like we always do!" Bulma sighed.

"I care about you… I could be a great dad! He wouldn't want for anything…" said Yamcha.

"You mean you'd teach him to be a womanizing jerk like you? Not MY son!" she snapped. "I'd rather he grow up like his father instead of being a lazy idiot…"

"You don't mean that Bulma… you're just angry at me… but you're the only one I ever wanted to settle down with… and when you were moping and bitching around what was I supposed to do, sit on my hand and spin?" Yamcha gasped. "I'm a man, I have NEEDS!"

"I'm a woman and I have needs too, you self centered Bakamono!"

"Hey, both of us had our fun. I had Shandi, and you had Vegeta! It's not MY fault Shandi ran off with Master Roshi, then moved on to that rock star!" Yamcha snapped.

"And that's why you've been ogling Marron right after she dumped Krillen? Damn it Yamcha! You can't expect me to believe that you'd change! You just want me because you feel sorry for me! Well I won't have you taking me out of pity!" Bulma yelled.

"I want to marry you! Please… let me help you…"

"Get out of here! I don't want your stupid ring if the only reason you're marrying me is cause I'm pregnant! How LOW…"

"Bulma… please…"

"Just stay away from me kusotarre!" she snapped. "Get OUT of here before I have you THROWN out!"

"He doesn't love you like I do. He'll just run away like he did before. And I'll be there… you'll see that I'm right!" Yamcha shouted. The door slammed, and Vegeta heard heavy footsteps leading out. Sighing he debated if he should go in and see if the woman was truly rid of the loser or not. On her own she had rejected him, showing true Saiyan pride.

"My son," Vegeta mumbled, shaking his head in disbelief. It hit him in the gut like a slow ache. What did he know about raising a brat? Granted the woman was rich and she could do the rearing, but what did she expect of him now?

"Hello, are you alive in there?" Bulma called. "I left you some clothes…"

"I can hear you! There's not need to SHOUT!" Vegeta snorted.

Through the frosted glass he saw her swirled form moving. All the blood rushed south, his loins tingling with her elusive scent. Angrily she stormed up and rapped on the glass. "Excuse ME for fucking CARING!"

"I need a damn bar of soap! There's nothing here!" Vegeta snorted, shoving the door open. Steam misted into the room, veiling her figure.

"Get it yourself bakayarou!" Bulma gritted, hurling the bar at him. He grasped her wrist, and yanked her bodily into the shower next to him.

"Shut up woman, and come here," Vegeta snorted, slamming the shower door behind her.

"Let me go this minute!" Bulma said firmly, as Vegeta pinned her against the tile wall. He pressed his nose to her neck, inhaling deeply.

"Do you really want me to?" he growled hungrily as he caught hold of her other wrist. Bulma raised her hand to slap him, but found that hand pinned as well beside her face.

"I HATE you, you left me kusotare!" she spat at him, squirming. "God I hate you… you are such an ASSHOLE, leaving me alone without saying anything!"

"Is that any way to talk to the father of your child?" Vegeta purred.

"What do you know about that?" Bulma gasped. Vegeta slid his knee between her legs, then transferred both wrists to one hand. With the right hand he slid his fingers down to the gentle swelling of her abdomen, rubbing it lightly.

"You're pregnant. He's strong, very strong," Vegeta said quietly, backing away. Bulma's sweater was soaked, her blue hair plastered in ringlets as she bit her lip and glared at him.

"As if you give a shit…" she sniffled. "Why did you leave me?"

"Because I was distracted, that's why," Vegeta said quietly. "I couldn't get any decent training in, because I was besotted with you. Damn it, woman you're like a disease… and I can't get you out of my head…"

"Then why did you come BACK?" she snorted.

"Because I wanted to," Vegeta answered, glaring at her. "And because you're carrying my brat and heir. I didn't count on this bonus, but it seems that I came back in time…"

"Well, it's yours," she said, raising her chin to stare down her nose. "So are you going to leave again?"

"No," Vegeta said. "That's the last heir to Vegetasei. And you're the mother of the Prince's son, and my mate. As such, you're extremely valuable. I cannot let those tin cans rob me of my property…"

"I'm NOT a thing!" she shouted. "I'm a human being! Don't treat me like some…"

"Shh, you talk too much…"

"Let me GO, damn you!" she shrilled in his ear. Bringing up her knee she slammed towards his groin, except he twisted his hip out of the way. Still he released her hands, backing away as she caught hold of his neck. He landed with a gasp, the wind knocked out of him. Small fists beat on his chest angrily with surpassing strength.

"I hate you, I HATE you!" Bulma screamed at him. "Mother fucking arrogant son of a monkey! How DARE you just go and leave me and think you can come back in here like nothing happened!"

Vegeta glanced up at her in mild amusement, letting her beat her fists against his chest as he lay there. Tears spilled down her cheeks, dripping onto his face. He grasped her hips, holding her down on top of him while she thrashed and kicked. It did not hurt him even when her fingernails scratched at his face, and he dodged her blows. Though she did get a sucker punch right onto his jaw, with a loud cracking noise. Sobbing, she held her hand, straddling him in the shower.

"You're surprisingly strong, for such a weak thing," he murmured, grasping her hurt hand and kissing it lightly. "But you shouldn't fight battles you can't win…"

"Get your dirty monkey hands off me, you Neanderthal!" she spat in his face. He licked his lips, reaching up to pull her onto his lap, sitting Indian style on the floor. Angrily Bulma beat his shoulder, then pressed her face to it sobbing bitterly.

"Hush now, Bulma, that's no way for the mate of the Prince of all Saiyans to act…" he chided her, harsh voice grating in her ear as she dug her nails into his bare back. "I heard you arguing with the weakling through the walls… your voice is loud enough that it was plain that you retained your pride…"

"I so hate you, Vegeta… damn you… damn you for knocking me up! Damn you for making me love you," she sniffed.

"What was that?" he asked.

"I love you, and I hate your guts for it," she sobbed.

"I should hate myself for choosing such a loud, noisy blue haired bitch, but I'm hardly complaining now. Especially when she's carrying my son," Vegeta reminded her. "I cant' have you doing anything STUPID now, can I? Like marrying that loser…"

"I don't want to get married," she snorted.

"Neither do I," Vegeta answered. "It's a foolish human custom. Overrated at best. And I can't let those tin cans see a weakness…"

"I don't want anything from you, except to do your part," she said, squirming to get off his lap. "Like helping me take care of him, since you don't have a job…"

"He's my son," Vegeta said quietly. "I will train him to be a great warrior, and show him what he needs to know about his heritage. You cannot deny me that. And I shall protect you and the boy while you carry him. What earth husband would do that?"

"How do I know you won't leave me again?"

"I left so I could train without these damn distractions. I hadn't anticipated you'd have my child so soon, Woman. But as this is the case, I'm honor bound to make sure you're provided for, and protected. And I can't do that with your stupid distracting nuisances."

"So I'm a NUISANCE! screw you, Vegeta!" she snarled.

"I'd very much like to take you up on that. I've had four months without mating, and I'm quite hungry for it…" he purred, tugging at her clothes.

"Ohhh you're impossible!" she screamed.

"Not so loud!" he snarled, tearing the fabric of her sopping wet clothes.

"You male chauvinist pig! What was I thinking, letting you get me laid?" she sniffled.

"I ask myself that, how I ended up with such an annoying wench like yourself, but you cannot deny we're both spoiled brats," Vegeta said. "Besides what other male would put up with you?"

"Bastard!"

"Bitch," he mumbled, angling his face to seal her lips with his own. His hot mouth and tongue thrusting over hers muffled Bulma's scream. Although she beat on his chest, she was swept away with the flood of desire resulting from his hand sliding down to rub over her desire. He tore away the shorts and underwear, sliding his fingers into her secret place.

Moaning she stopped struggling against the inevitable. It seemed as if blue sparks moved up and down Bulma's form as she felt Vegeta's hand clutching her down on his lap. He wrapped one marble white leg around his hip, then stood up, cupping her bottom with both hands while still kissing her. Despite her anger, she felt the readiness of his body awaiting hers. A wave of blue fire collected in her desire, then radiated over her entire skin leaving goosebumps in its wake.

Angrily she bit into his lips, raking her nails up and down his already scarred back. Vegeta chuffed against her lips, feeling the embrace of her thighs positioning her so they could mold their bodies together. Hips rocked back and forth, teasingly not letting him enter. Slowly he covered his mouth with hers, and joined their bodies as one. Water battered them, bringing the two lovers together in a torrent of sheer need and want they could not escape.

* * *


	14. Truce for now

_Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z. Toriyama and Toei and Funimation do. I don't get paid for this. However the only remuneration I get is the reviews, so please, good or bad, read and review! Thanks!_

**A Taste of Heat (Chikara)**

By Trynia Merin

_This chapter contains LEMON! Don't read if you're underage!_

_**Truce**_

* * *

Within the shower, Bulma cursed herself. Vegeta's hands glided all over her wet flesh, pinching her like fruit being evaluated for purchase. Against her chest vibrated his purr merging into her body with its frequency that eclipsed all other sounds. Overtop the white noise of the rushing shower water and her grunts she felt her whole reality narrow to the immediate passage of second by second. 

"Why," she sobbed, burying her face into his shoulder. Vegeta slid his fingers down a marble white thigh, hoisting it to wrap around his muscular hip.

"Why what?" he cooed, biting her sensitive ear and sucking the lobe between his lips.

"You treat me like shit, and I'm letting you do this to me! Damn you..."

"You have no complaints and are not screaming for assistance, I observe," Vegeta breathed in her ear.

"I'm not a fucking WEAKNESS, asshole, that's what!" she snarled. "I REFUSE to stand here and let you insinuate I am..."

"Humph, if YOU want to die in two years because you screwed up my chance to train," Vegeta mumbled, stopping his ministrations.

"If it wasn't for ME and my so called worthless family you'd be SOL and up the creek without a paddle, buddy," Bulma snarled, biting down hard on his ear, sure she drew blood. Angrily she raked her nails over the skin of his back to make the point that she wasn't as helpless.

"You don't comprehend what I mean, idiot,' Vegeta shook his head. "What I mean is that if the nature of our relationship is revealed to our enemies, then they'll stop at nothing to use you to get to me... you're a tactical weakness. I'm a warrior, I ALWAYS think in terms of strengths and weaknesses wench!"

"Then how about turning your WEAKNESSES into strengths, huh?" Bulma snorted, staring down her nose at him with the same snobby air as he often did. "I DARE you to make THAT paradigm shift. I'm Bulma Briefs, not 'baka onna', 'wench' or 'slave'. And you'd do WELL to remember I'm one of the richest on this third rock from the sun, AND I'm the mother of YOUR child... so bite me!"

"I intend to do the latter," Vegeta snickered, letting a bit of grin show through his smirk. "You'd positively as arrogant, shrewish and annoying you'd do well to remember that I'm the only male on this planet who'd consent to mating with you. And didn't I TELL you that you're stuck with me forever whether you or I like it or not?"

"Don't remind me, you smelly ape," she snorted. "I don't know if I want to kick your ass, or kiss you..."

"You can attempt BOTH, but I am the stronger of us," Vegeta said.

"Shut the hell up and screw me if you're going to do it! You say I talk too much, your Royal Whyness!" Bulma snorted, grabbing his face and cutting him off with a hard kiss for a change.

"Infinitely preferable to your submissive self before I left," Vegeta snickered, after a mind-numbing kiss. "I like you like this, Bulma..."

"You're always screwing with my head," she mumbled. "Is it some screwed up Saiyan custom to get pissed off before you screw?"

"Took you THAT long to figure it out, genius?" Vegeta hiked a brow.

"I'm so gonna KILL you for that," she gritted her teeth.

"As if you possessed the potential to do THAT," he sniffed, giving her a bored look of a cultured aristocrat.

"Who's got who NOW?" she snickered, grabbing his member and rubbing her hand over it.

"I've got excellent control over my body, you can't get me by the balls like those other losers you might have encountered before," he chuffed, leaning down and nipping at her neck. Grasping her other thigh he slammed her back into the wall.

"Whatever," Bulma casually tossed back.

Her head and back slammed up against the tile with each movement of his body. The Saiyan Prince began to make hard love to her. Bulma gritted her teeth, stifling her cries. She bit every fold of skin she could reach and raked great furrows along his sculpted shoulders with manicured nails. Trailing down his back to his marvelous ass she squeezed it hard, feeling the texture like ripe oranges. With each bite and scratch Vegeta grew ever more aggressive, opening the channel of his blue ki between them.

"You're… a sex junkie!" she gritted her teeth. Eyes as blue as a cloudless summer day darkened to ultramarine of a dusky sky post sunset.

Bottomless midnight pools of black opened to regard her directly without reflection. Vegeta stopped his pleasuring assault. He grated, "You're a ki junkie, so what?"

"You're my weakness," she panted into his face, pockmarked with her bloody bites.

"Now you comprehend my position," grunted Vegeta.

"Yes," Bulma swallowed hard. "And I swear I'll die before I tell anyone else… you'll probably kill me. I can tell you're thinking that I'll use this to dominate you. But I'm not that kind of a woman!"

Vegeta countered, "Aren't you? As much as you're physically weak, your mind is your greatest weapon. And I swear if you repeat that to your loser friends…"

"You'll have to kill me," she nodded, panting deeply. "Vegeta, I don't want some pussy assed male I can just boss around. But I don't want you to think you can just use me and throw me away like some damn tissue…"

"Then… we will call a truce," Vegeta said. "Don't interrupt my training for your stupid sentimental bullshit, and I'll be true to my vow. You'll be protected, pleasured, and my son… our son will be trained when he's old enough… I won't have him end up like Kakkarot's brat…"

"Agreed. You can go train or whatever, but you'd BETTER come back once in a while and have sex with me so I don't forget who you are… and you be a father to this baby…"

"I'm a Prince. I keep my word, Bulma," he snorted. "But I will not be cajoled!"

"I won't either," she huffed.

"Then, we're agreed?" he asked.

"To ooh, disagree," she snorted. "And we can both scream and yell at each other to our hearts intent, but this is…"

"Forever," Vegeta nodded.

Bulma's scream echoed in the shower to split his eardrums so he muffled it with a kiss. Through their bones the cries reverberated. Vegeta leaned heavily against her. He let her twitch spasmodically with the residual cracklings of arcing blue light. Then after a long time he lowered her to sit on the edge of the spa shower. Next to her he took his place. Silently he helped her clean up before they both emerged from the shower.

* * *

Neither broke the silence of the next hour. Vegeta flared both her and himself off with his blue ki, except for Bulma's permed hair. They helped one another on with the terrycloth robes hanging on the peg behind the door. Vegeta's was royal blue, and hers had the purple stars speckling it. She suppressed a giggle to see that he was wearing the latter, and she the former. 

"Food, now," he grunted.

"Neanderthal. This me Tarzan you Jane shit has got to stop," she huffed, twisting a towel between her hands.

Vegeta cocked his head to smirk. Something zinged out and cracked against his cloth-covered ass, causing him to hiss and jump. "What the hell?"

"Gotcha," Bulma snickered. A wicked gleam twinkled in her eyes.

"Two can play at THAT game, wench," Vegeta snarled playfully. Snatching her up he exited the bathroom.

Bulma pounded on his back, kicking and screaming. He winced at the piercing noise of her cries, then levitated off the floor. Through the house they streaked, towards the kitchen. He narrowly avoided hitting doors and walls, silencing Bulma's tirade into a sick moan.

"Ohhh, I'm gonna puke," she groaned.

He came to an abrupt halt, just inside the kitchen. Bulma clung to him shakily. Vegeta plunked her down in front of the stove, but she turned and promptly hurled the contents of her stomach onto his bathrobe.

"Kuso, that was low," he grumbled, shedding the garment and throwing it into the sink with disgust. He propped her up in a chair, wetting a dishrag to help her mop the puke off her face.

"Then you should think TWICE about dragging me around, ne?" she shakily smiled at him.

"Touché," Vegeta rolled his eyes dramatically. "Stupid humans. Have such WEAK stomachs…"

"There's frozen waffles in the freezer," Bulma pointed with one finger.

"Well, aren't you going to GET them?" he asked, picking up the soiled robe. Momentarily he ducked into the laundry room downstairs. Seconds later he flew up wearing a pair of his black silk boxers since his robe was a mess.

"Hey, your Majesty, I wasn't the one who made ME sick, so don't bitch! If you want to eat, you wait till I recover. Fix them yourself!" she snapped. Still her pallid skin showed Vegeta he had shaken her up far more than he had realized.

"As usual I have to take care of your useless weakling ass," Vegeta mumbled, opening the door to the freezer. He tossed several dozen boxes of eggos onto the kitchen table. Then he plunked a frying pan onto the stove.

"Okay, genius, you COULD use a toaster," Bulma snickered. She watched his hands fumbling to tear open the boxes, making a mess of the cartons.

"Shut the hell up," Vegeta snarled back, grabbing the deluxe eight-slot toaster and plunking it down on the table. He ran the cord into the outlet, then shoved frozen waffles into each slot. Bulma watched with amusement. Stopping for a moment he shoved a glass of water into her hands.

"Thanks," she said, sipping it slowly.

"Whatever," Vegeta mumbled, hunting for plates. He managed to line ten of them up, then turned to the fridge again to break out two cartons of grade A eggs. One after the other he cracked them to fry himself an industrial sized omelet.

"You see, it isn't THAT hard, is it?"

"It'd probably not taste like shit this time," Vegeta mumbled.

"Don't' forget the eggs," she giggled, smelling the smoke rising from the sizzling popping mess.

"Shimatta!" Vegeta barked, jumping back and waving his hand.

"And you say I'm the baka," Bulma groaned. She leapt up to grab the fire extinguisher. Seconds later a hiss of white CO2 covered his breakfast, ruining it.

"Kusotarre," he grumbled.

"Move over. I may be a stupid earthling but I can make eggs," Bulma stuck her tongue out at him.

"Whatever," Vegeta glowered.

* * *

He turned around, grabbing the coffeepot and hunting for the tin. Fortunately it wasn't too difficult to fill the basket and follow the relevant directions on the side of the can. Meanwhile, Bulma cleaned up the mess he'd made, and hastily fried up another dozen eggs into a mess of scrambled go. She added bamboo shoots, parsley, and diced tomatoes to it. 

"Now who's the genius? You know it doesn't take a rocket scientist to cook breakfast," she elbowed him, loading his plates with eggos and omelet.

"It takes a genius to screw up breakfast, you mean," Vegeta answered. "Your idiot mother is the best cook in this establishment. So it's natural to assume cooking and stupidity…"

"Finish that sentence and you'll be eating cold cuts for a month!" Bulma threatened.

"Grrr," Vegeta snarled, plunking his plate down. Bulma smirked in trump, then filled two mugs with steamy freshly brewed coffee. Both settled down to eat breakfast in relative silence. As she dumped ketchup and Tabasco sauce on her eggs, she had to admit something. Vegeta neatly packed away his third plate of breakfast, staring at her occasionally with that smoldering annoyed gaze.

Thinly veiled irritation, it concealed his true passion. Bulma giggled, realizing that she could never enjoy breakfast with Yamucha like this. Always he would babble about some stupid baseball story or exploit he and Puar had gotten into. Thankfully Vegeta only spoke if he had something useful to say.

"I guess this could work," she muttered.

"What was that?" he mumbled, snatching more food from the counter.

"Nothing, just eat your food, your Highness," Bulma shot back. Swirling coffee in her cup, she felt a strange fondness creep over her.

"What are you staring at?" Vegeta asked.

"Duh? You?" she asked.

"Naturally, you can't take your eyes off perfection," he smugly quipped.

"Give me a break. Who else would put up with your princely arrogant ass?" Bulma retorted.

"Humph," he mumbled, returning to eating his breakfast. "Then stop babbling and let me eat in peace…"

"As you wish, your MAJESTY," she grunted, pushing herself away from the table and throwing her dish into the sink with a dramatic clatter.

Vegeta heaved in a sigh, shaking his head and mumbling under his breath. He didn't see Bulma hiding her giggle behind her slim hand while she returned to sit opposite him again. Between her hands she clutched her coffee, enjoying the warmth seeping into it. Paper rustled while she picked up the paper to hide Vegeta's view of her face. Conveniently they ignored one another while finishing breakfast in peace. It was quite domestic, but neither would admit it in a million years!

* * *


	15. Hidden Strengths

**A Taste of Blue Chikara (heat)**

_**Hidden Strengths**_

By Trynia Merin

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ Toriyama does. This is fan fiction.

_Note and Warning: This is a dark chapter. If you don't like stories exploring Vegeta's demons or potential for rage directed at Bulma, don't read this! It might be a stretch, but I figured Vegeta might snap as he has in many fan fictions even with his own mate and child. While I don't think he'd actually kill Bulma intentionally after their first few times, something might set him off enough to come close? But he finally does come to understand after what happens in this chapter, trust me! It has a LEMON at the end!_

* * *

For some reason something had set him off that day. She didn't recall if it was a look or a phrase, but before she knew it they were arguing heatedly. Finally words escaped her lips that caused his face to crease in fury. Suddenly his viselike grip seized her shoulder and he backed her against the wall. 

"Shut the hell UP! You have no fucking comprehension!" he ranted.

"Gaack," she gasped, raising her slender hands to his gloved hand. "Vegeta, stop, you're HURTING me..."

"Don't you dare presume to know what I experience. Just because we've fucked a couple dozen times does not give you the privilege to JUDGE me, bitch!" he ranted.

"I... kami," she gasped, feeling terror.

"I should kill you for this insolence!" he growled, forcing his face close to hers. Hot breath surged against her face, his eyes ablaze like hard bricks of coal.

"Vegeta, please don't, I didn't know what I was saying!" she stammered.

"You disgust me," he said coldly. "You have no decent sense to remember your place. Just why I mated with a low class like you is beyond me!"

All of a sudden Bulma's panic turned to anger. Who did he think he was acting in this manner? She was scared to death, but Bulma was damned if he was going to get away with squeezing the life out of her. Stopping her fight, she lay her hands at her side. Vegeta saw her body relax, as if accepting her fate. IN shock he blinked, unable to comprehend except that she had given up.

"Then... go ahead and kill me," Bulma whispered, closing her eyes. Within her quivered the life force of their unborn child. Vegeta suddenly felt a surge of power crackling through her whole body.

"What the hell," he gasped.

"I can't fight back. Go ahead and kill me. If I'm such a hindrance to you, then I might as well die by your hand then by the androids," Bulma swallowed hard. Her blue eyes blazed with inner fire. It arced from her belly, surging over her frame. Bulma's heart pounded with liquid blue fire then shuddered spasmodically. Vegeta howled as ki slammed into him with sudden force. In shock he let go, letting Bulma's body thump to the floor.

"KUSO!" he snarled, backing away.

Bulma hugged her stomach, feeling the life inside twitching strongly. She panted, seeing him doubled over in rage and humiliation. What had just happened, she wondered? The light tap against her ribs was like a soft caress, bringing her a sudden sense of awareness. The baby was angry.

"It can't be," she thought, rubbing her belly. Vegeta shook his stinging hand; his glove smoldered with the blast of royal blue ki that slammed over him. Slowly he panted, shaking his head. That same peace and relief flowed through her body, reassuring with its gentle warmth through her entire body. It was a pale radiant blue heat that sang through each and every nerve, but pooled strongest in her belly.

"So small, but it knew I was threatened. My son knew I was threatened and he fought back," Bulma blinked.

"That is impossible," Vegeta gasped, glancing at Bulma in panic. "How could you possibly do that to me?"

"The baby did it," Bulma said, slowly climbing to her feet. "It's my son. He fought back."

"Surprisingly powerful little thing," Vegeta blinked, seeing Bulma stand over him. Hands formed at her fists with anger coursing through her veins.

"I ought to kick your ass out of here now, you monster," she said with thinly veiled hate. "Nobody threatens my son. Not even his own Father."

"You're not worth the effort to kill, and I wouldn't have hurt the brat intentionally!" he said dazedly, stumbling to his feet. He held his neck and rubbed his face, not able to look Bulma in the eyes.

"I could give a shit less what happens to you, Vegeta. But I won't let my son die. You kill me, you murder him. Do you really want that?" Bulma said with a slow calm that was far more effective then her shrilling scream.

"I wasn't really going to kill you, baka," Vegeta mumbled. "I was only trying to bring you to heel! You should obey me female!"

"Then what? That was some sort of a sick game? Terrorizing me? My God Vegeta, what do you expect from me? If you're trying to make me hate you you're doing a good job of it!" Bulma yelled.

Vegeta glared at her with those dark eyes. They had glazed over with shock, then shame. HE turned away, hugging himself with arms crossed over his chest. "Fine, this place is a waste of my fucking time anyhow."

"Then leave. The door's right there," Bulma said. "But don't expect me to welcome you back. I've had enough with y our bullying me around. I'm the mother of your child. And I wont' allow you to threaten Trunks by harming me."

"I'm leaving," Vegeta said quietly after a long pause. "Obviously this will not work. I threaten your existence. I have no desire to kill my own son. I was correct to begin with that you're too much of a distraction..."

"Then leave Vegeta. Just get the hell out of my house, and my life till you learn to behave like a civilized being," Bulma said angrily. "You will not make me feel helpless like you did, you abuser."

"You know little of abuse," Vegeta said sullenly.

"I'm not comparing anything, Vegeta. But you're better then this," Bulma said. "I think you'd better leave."

"So do I," Vegeta said quietly. "But I wouldn't have really killed you, you know. Or my son. As if I should give a shit why I should explain myself!"

"I'm not scared of you anymore. No matter what you do to me, it doesn't matter. My son is the most important thing in the world. I'd die for him. Even to protect him from you," said Bulma. "If you want to blame everyone for your past, fine. But leave me and our son out of it. So fucking what if I can't understand what you went through? Can't you just leave it behind yourself before you destroy everything in your path?"

"I underestimated you, woman," Vegeta said quietly. Turning away, he slowly strode towards the front door. Before long he was just a glimmering dot on the far horizon.

"I won't let anyone hurt you, baby," said Bulma softly. She rubbed her belly, feeling her tears cascade down her face.

* * *

An entire month passed by before Vegeta returned. In the meantime, Bulma retreated to her lab to build more devices with her father. Neither parent asked about Vegeta's absence, figuring he had gone away to train for the upcoming Android threat. With red eyes and a hurt shoulder she was nursing, Bulma crawled off to bed after most meals. Her skin was pale, and she often drank ensure or other nutrients for the sake of the life growing strong inside her. 

One particular evening, Bulma lay curled up on the bed. She rubbed her belly, letting tears spill down her face. Just why had he hurt her so? In all the time she'd known him he had come close to choking her once or twice, but she thought he was beyond this. Bulma sat up in bed, hugging herself.

"Oh baby, what am I going to do about your father… I hate him and love him… and I miss him," she whispered.

Dried crusty remains of tears lingered on her cheeks. She rose from the bed, waddling over to the mirror to look at herself. Blue eyes stared back from a haggard face. They were red with countless tears. Over and over she had replayed that day, wondering what she had done wrong.

It then dawned on her like a sunrise. She glanced to the radiance of three lines sinking down. The setting sun was shining through the venetian blinds, obscuring her view of West Central City. She mumbled, "Abuse. He's just like an abused child, and he's abusing me. He doesn't realize what he's doing!"

"Still that doesn't mean I should let him get away with that, stupid son of a bitch!" she hissed, clenching her fists.

"No, it shouldn't," answered a hoarse voice.

She wheeled on the figure standing just inside the doorway. His clothes were torn in many places, his armor battered and pitted. Vegeta's eyes were red rimmed like hers.

"What are you doing here?" she asked quietly, making fists.

"I don't the hell know, woman," he grumbled, wandering into the room. "Am I welcome, or should I fucking leave now?"

"You tell me," she said fixing him in her icy gaze. Turning away, she hugged herself tightly, resting her arms on top of her beach ball sized belly.

Vegeta reached absently for a bottle of cologne resting next to her Chanel no. 5. He recalled Bulma buying it as a Christmas present, along with that silly Bejitasei T-shirt. Turning it over in his hands, he swallowed hard with the lump that had formed. "As if I need to explain anything to you, woman…"

"If you don't have any good reason, then beat it," Bulma said flatly, wandering over to the sliding glass door that led to the balcony.

"I…" Vegeta muttered, plunking the bottle of cologne down.

"Well?" Bulma wondered, tapping her foot.

"I've come to… a… I've come to…"

"Come to WHAT? Spit it out, jerk face! I'm exhausted!" she snarled, shooting a poisonous glance over her shoulder at him.

Vegeta bowed his head, averting his gaze. Bulma blinked in shock. Never had he done that before. Tightly she hugged herself, trembling with need and a million emotions boiling beneath the surface. At that moment he looked lost and humiliated. Both fists were at his hips, clenching and unclenching. Gritting his teeth, Vegeta grunted, "I've come... I've come to fucking apologize damn it!"

"I didn't hear that…"

"Are you deaf, female? I said I was fucking SORRY, all right?" Vegeta yelled.

His loud voice cut through her like a Kamehameha wave. Inside her belly the infant Trunks seemed to turn a summersault. Bulma's chin trembled. Yet a part of her didn't want to let him off the hook so easily. Vegeta watched her shoulder blades shift beneath the purple robe decorated with stars that he often wore after their sex. Finally Bulma turned slowly around, gazing forlornly at her mate.

"Oh Vegeta, it's not that easy. I accept your apology but I can't forget what you did," she said.

"I would NEVER kill you or the baby, damn it!" Vegeta snapped, pointing at her in anger. "How DARE you accuse me of such…"

"Because, you were abused. And you were striking out at me as a target. I understand now, Vegeta. I can't forget, but I can forgive."

"Did I ASK for your understanding?" he gritted.

"No, but you have it, so shut up and listen to me, damn it!" Bulma yelled back.

Vegeta blinked at the volume in her voice, backing down a bit. His armor rose and fell with the deep breaths he drew. A fight verbally he could deal with, he realized. "So what the fuck do you have to say?" he mumbled.

"I mean that I fucking understand that abuse is a cycle. And I can't expect you to suddenly change overnight. Because that's not you. But you scared the shit out of me, Vegeta. I thought you'd kill Trunks and me if I said the wrong thing! And I'm SORRY I opened my fucking goddamn mouth. But I have a RIGHT to know I'm safe! I won't be terrorized, even if I do understand WHY you lashed out at me!"

"Woman, I don't know what to say," Vegeta mumbled, turning around. He paced a slow orbit, glancing at her thoughtfully. Bulma noticed how he hugged himself tightly in the precise manner in which she did now. Both felt so lonely in that room at that moment it was pitiable. How did the chasm open up so deeply, yet hit so close to the mark?

"Say you'll never let it happen again?" Bulma asked, slowly striding up to him. "And I'll promise to watch what I say, and not mention you or your past in such a stupid way again. And that I have your word as the Saiyan no Ouji that me and my son, our son will never come to harm by your hand?"

"Very well. I swear as the Prince of all Saiyans you shall not come to harm by my hand. Are you happy now?" he asked quietly.

She frowned. Vegeta cursed under his breath, adding, "I swear on my oath to best Kakkarot."

"That's better," she exhaled, then felt her knees weaken.

"So, does this mean I'm still banished from this domicile?" Vegeta asked.

"You can come home, you lunk head, because I fucking miss you," Bulma swallowed hard, her chin wobbling.

* * *

Vegeta saw her squeezing herself tightly. Swallowing his pride, he stiffly raised his arms and stepped towards her. His gloved hands bracketed her arms, giving them a light touch. He rested his forehead to hers, then slid his hands down to encircle her hips. Bulma then realized this was the closest to initiating a hug he had ever come, and it was costing him dearly. 

"I missed you too, woman," he murmured. Bulma leaned over and bit his ear gently. She squeezed his neck tightly, burying her face in his shoulder. Vegeta's arms crushed her protectively close, yet restrained from harming her or the baby.

"Don't ever let me go," she sniffled. "Damn I'm some wimp crying."

"Females cry on this planet," he grunted. "It's a reality. I suppose I cannot expect YOU to change your ridiculous ways."

"Jerk," she chuckled, kissing his neck and rubbing his muscular back. Although it was difficult through his armor. He lifted a brow when he felt her fingers moving to the fastenings.

"Let me. You'll take too damn long," he complained, backing away. He undid the straps and tossed the breastplate down on the floor. Then he walked towards her, laying his hands on her robe. She slid her fingers under the shirt, slowly tugging it up and over his head while he raised his arms. Soon his boots and blue training paints joined her robe in a commingled pile on the floor.

Vegeta picked her up in his arms, carrying her towards the bed. He lay her down, sealing her gasps with a hot kiss. She moaned, realizing he had greatly improved since she had taught him those months ago. Against her mouth she chuckled.

"What?" he snorted.

"Take the gloves off, please?" she asked.

"Stupid pain in the ass," Vegeta mumbled, grabbing them and peeling them away. Bulma sighed with delight as his soft hands touched his skin to hers, causing him to hiss in surprise as well.

"I know you don't like being touched unless it's for a reason," she said.

"Humph," he mumbled, confirming her suspicions.

"You don't have to wear those around me," she said quietly. "At least during sex. Any other time I don't care."

"You have SOME sense of decency," he snorted with relief. Rolling her over on the bed, he began to make love to her to show her how he had missed her.

* * *


	16. Lemonade for an expectant Mom

**A Taste of Heat**

_**Chapter 14 Expectant Mother Blues**_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Bulma or Vegeta, or Dragon ball Z. Toriyama, Toei Animation Co limited do. This is fan fiction and I don't get paid for this. The only remuneration I get is your reviews, so please R and R! Thanks so much! I'll give ya a cookie!_

By Trynia Merin aka StarbearerTM

Lemony content in this chapter!

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Bulma chuckled when she finished her latest project. Of course she didn't know if he'd care for it or not, but it seemed like a good idea. It gleamed gold under the sunlight as she fixed the image in place, leaving the other side open for a picture that she hoped would soon be filled in another month or so. Already her stomach had grown to watermelon size, and she felt her ankles perpetually swelling. 

Inside the reinforced hyper gravity chamber Capsule 4, she heard the sounds of chuckling amidst him speaking in that language she knew was his native tongue. In her hands she carried the capsule containing his Highness's lunch. Mrs. Briefs set out the tray that both of them were making up for Vegeta. With the touch of a button several dozen roast beef sandwiches were reduced in size within the encapsulation tray.

"This is scary, he's actually been behaving himself the past few months," she thought, reaching up to depress the intercom button. Sometimes he would still rocket off for days at a time to train in isolated locations. Yet his times between those intervals only lasted a week or so, not long stretches of months like she had feared.

"What do you want, Bulma?" asked his irritated voice.

"Lunch?"

"Fine," he snorted.

"Turn off the gravity?"

"Whatever," he mumbled. The indicator crept down to 1 G before the door hissed open.

She walked into the interior of the ship, still carrying her capsule. Sweat soaked the front of his spandex shorts and matching tank top, leaving little to the imagination. His face was partly concealed by the towel he used to sponge off his face. He wasn't surprised when she threw the capsule down and revealed a one-person table laden with food out of the clearing smoke.

"Mind if I join you?"

"Don't care either way," he snorted. "Just stop that infernal chatter. You know it acidizes my digestion."

"I know, but you could at LEAST act like you give a shit whether or not I prepared this!" she snorted. He settled down in one of the chairs opposite her, and reached for the nearest plate of sandwiches.

"Humph, it's edible. What a surprise," he smirked; dodging the piece of ice she threw at him.

"Coffee?" she asked.

"Don't care," he mumbled. "That foul tasting brew just fails to make sense. But if it will keep me awake through your babbling I might as well."

"Don't let ME keep you awake," she quipped, pushing a cup towards him. He swigged an entire liter of the Hercule sport drink she'd left, and then followed it with several bites of another sandwich. Picking up a plate she fixed a sandwich with some honey drizzled on top of the ham.

"Are you trying to make me sick, or is that a blatant reminder that you're carrying my brat?" he asked, making a face.

"Glad you remembered," she said.

"It's obvious," he said.

"Jerk! I know I'm fat!" She sniffled.

"As if that was an issue? You females are obsessed with your weight in the stupidest ways. Saiyan females were known to be much sturdier and not so damn fragile. You're supposed to be fat, because you're carrying the brat, so why should you be upset?" he grumbled.

"Ass," she sniffled.

"You know I'm right so stop acting like a brat yourself. One is quite enough!" he grumbled, dodging the plate she threw at him. It shattered against the far wall. With an indignant huff she leapt up and stormed out.

"I wonder why I bother," she sniffled.

"You worry too damn much about stupid shit," he called after her. "It's a wonder that you haven't driven everyone else insane!"

"I'm the only female, who puts up with your shit," she shot back. Despite her anger she stormed back in and rested both hands on her hips.

"What the hell is this trinket?" he asked, grabbing something and holding it up by his finger. "Are you trying to make me choke?"

"What do you care? It's something I thought you'd like," she huffed, poking her bottom lip out at him.

"Are you insane, it's a piece of woman's jewelry!" he snorted.

"Then give it back. It's wasted on you," she said, rushing over and grabbing it out of his hands.

"Hands off, I haven't looked at it yet," he snapped, playing keep away. Turning it over he noticed the small seam of the two halves, then pressed the hidden stud to open it. He blinked and shook his head.

"It's a locket. Humans wear…"

"I'm familiar with your planet's fool customs," he snorted. Grabbing at her throat he lightly seized the one she wore at her throat.

"That isn't feminine. This one is…"

"Whatever," he mumbled, glancing at it. "Sentimental foolishness."

"It's wasted on you," she choked, hot tears spurting down her cheeks. She fingered the locket around her own neck. It was shaped like a heart, whereas Vegeta's was slightly oval, with a cursive V carved over its surface. He turned it over and saw the royal crest of Vegetasei on its reverse with some interest.

"I didn't say I didn't want it, you fool female," he growled, snatching it back. "Besides how can I show everyone else how ugly you are and have them believe me?"

"Heh how stupid of me to forget," she cursed. "But you're supposed to wear it around your neck."

"I'll do no such fool thing," he said, shoving it down into a pocket of his spandex shorts.

Bulma inhaled deeply relieved that he had at least accepted her little gift without throwing it back in her face. "You didn't even notice one side was empty?"

"For the brat's image? Humph, I suppose that's logical," he grunted. "Was that the damn fool thing you're so emotional about?"

"Yes," she sniffled.

"All those damn hormones are making you unusually bitchy, but I suppose it's no worse then you usually get," Vegeta commented. "Is that all you're blubbering about?"

"Yes and no," she mumbled, getting up and turning away.

"Just when I think I have females on this planet figured out," he trailed off, running gloved fingers over the locket still grasped in his hand.

"You Saiyan males are just as screwed up," she retaliated. Bulma poked her pink tongue out of her puckered lips in an attempt to insult him. Strangely it backfired because she saw the smoldering stare Vegeta threw in her direction when she turned around.

"What was that about screwing, Bulma?" he cackled with his all too familiar superior Royal smirk.

"Kuso, I should have kept my mouth shut," she yelped, backing up.

Vegeta appeared behind her, catching her body with two white-gloved hands on her hips. He lifted her up to prevent her from squirming away. Effortlessly he turned her around so she was suspended over his leering face. He scolded, "Where do you think YOU'RE going, eh?"

"Fine, as soon as I do anything related to SEX you pay attention to me, but the rest of the time you could give a shit less! Thanks BUNCHES your Royal Nastiness!" she yelled down at him. Small hands balled into fists, pounding on his rock hard shoulders.

"Fuck now, fight later," he purred. Bulma swallowed hard after she felt the distinct sensation that Vegeta was suspended in the air just as she was. Perhaps it was the slow gliding of the wall tiles past his spiky crest of hair that indicated this. Or else she could tell because the line of circular portholes at the ship's midline was ten feet lower than they were before. That faint crackle of his indigo ki crawled over every inch of her skin. She had not been aware of it till she saw the glow surrounding them both before it faded to nothingness.

"Are you trying to make me SICK, Vegeta? You're insane!" she breathed deeply.

"If I'm insane enough to screw an annoying female such as you, Bulma, I'm insane enough to do it repeatedly," he answered, lowering her with his hands alone so they were face to face.

The flats of Bulma's hands slapped down on his muscular shoulders. She dug into them with her fingernails desperately at the sight of them levitating fifteen feet above the GR floor. He held her apart enough from him so her enlarged belly just lightly touched his abdomen. Inside he felt something turn and lightly kick against his stomach with just enough force for him to notice.

"Ugh!" she grunted. "Your son just KICKED me trying to kick YOU, jerk!"

"Humph, good job he's not broken any of your ribs. The ki's reinforcing your fragile body. Otherwise you'd be shaken to bits when he moves," Vegeta mumbled.

"Hey, excuse me?"

"Your body's changed enough to accommodate my offspring, idiot," Vegeta shook his head with all the impatience of a bored schoolmaster explaining a complex problem which should be simple to a slow student.

"Ass!" she spat in his face.

"Is the best on this paltry planet, so don't bitch to me, Bulma," Vegeta returned.

"Ooh, I'm going to pound you, if you weren't holding me UP," she mumbled. Angrily she leaned down and bit the tip of his nose. Laughing, Vegeta did the same, before choking off her next angry blue streak of words with a heavy kiss.

By far the best way to shut Bulma up was with a forceful invasion of her mouth with his own tongue. She struggled only for a moment before giving in with a sigh of bliss. What seemed a useless custom had very pragmatic uses Vegeta reflected. In addition to keeping the loud-mouthed mate Bulma pacified, it did induce pleasure in its own way. To her there were equally disgusting Saiyan rituals. Including the tradition of the male chewing up raw meat for the female before spitting the masticated pulp down her throat to indicate his ability to provide for her.

Bulma had endured this time and again, trying her damnedest not to puke it back up. Now she fell into his kiss, increasing the pressure of her lips on his. From side to side she moved her head, finding the best position to get as much of his mouth overtop of hers as she could without bumping noses. Soon he felt her fingers tugging handfuls of his hair with enough force to rip it out by the roots had he been a mere human. Hungrily she clawed at his shirt with her other hand while biting his tongue hard enough to draw blood.

"You seriously think YOU'RE in control here, Bulma? You poor deluded female," he scolded her lightly after releasing her from their kiss.

"Bastard, just shut up and fuck me," she hissed.

"Pregnancy improves your disposition," he mumbled. "A rather pleasant development."

"Shut up, Vegeta," she snapped, burying her lips into his. He laughed through their next kiss, pressing her back against the wall to free his hands to tear at her clothes. Finally he sent a sizzling jolt of ki to disintegrate them from around her to dust. If Bulma noticed herself nude in his arms she didn't care. Her legs wrapped around his waist, while one hand slid down to tug at his pants.

Vegeta snickered, removing his hand from her hip long enough to tug the front of his shorts down to free his body. Bulma repositioned him between her legs. Their arguments were enough foreplay to her, she had discovered long ago. Vegeta teasingly pumped his hips, not penetrating her but simply teasing outside paradise.

"Oh, you're going to Pay for that, your royal pain in my ass," she grumbled, sliding her hands down to slip over the hardened cheeks of his muscular butt. Her fingernails ground into it, slowly kneading the cheeks of his ass like he would often do to her breasts. In the meantime his lips captured one sensitive peak, lapping around it with his tongue. Both hands held her, still sheathed in gloves by her hips.

"Am I?" he asked, thrusting unexpectedly into her, but not so deep as to enter her fully. Instead he kept the angle shallow enough to pleasure her with a rapid percussion of strokes.

"You… are playing… DIRTY, you royal prick" she gasped.

"Quite an… appropriate… sentence, don't you… think?" he grunted.

"Yes," she groaned. The rest of what she said degraded to a mere babble of nonsense. Her entire body shivered and spasm, squeezing aroundhis frame with itsvelvet embrace. Vegeta stopped to savor it for a long minute that drew into thirty. He loved the control he had over her by simply taking her like this. What he had first seen as a weakness was now a struggle for dominance leaving him the champion. No earthman would satisfy her now, and he had power over her because she would rely on his protection against the Androids. It wasn't he who was made weak by her, but her who was forced to depend on him in HER weakness. By impregnating her, she was now weak and he was the dominant male she would cling to.

"I'm in command, and don't you forget it, Bulma," Vegeta rasped in her ear. "Your life is in my hands."

"I know, bastard, and there's nothing I can do about it," she sighed, collapsing against his shoulder. Lightly she kissed the welt that marked him as hers.

"You belong to me, Bulma, body and soul, to do with what I will, is that not correct?"

"Maybe so, but you'd be lost without my inventions, bud," she laughed. "And you said that I made you weak. HAH!"

"Humph, laugh now, Bulma," he snorted indignantly, giving a thrust upwards to catch her attention. "But remember I didn't have to spare this world, or you."

"Do I look like I'm COMPLAINING, baka?" she gritted her teeth. "I don't WANT anyone else. Just you, Vegeta. Any way I can get you. Even though you're the worst thing for me."

"Don't you forget it, Bulma," Vegeta laughed deeply.

"How can I when you're yapping it in my ear every Kami damned time we fuck?" she grunted back.

"Ungrateful woman," he grumbled.

"Monkey king," she mumbled back, rocking her hips. Both of them wrestled to bring one another to that pinnacle first. Vegeta's seed and his ki surged through her entire body. Within her belly the baby somersaulted, generating his own ki that crackled back to strengthen his mother's womb. Vegeta sensed the spike in the infant's power, reaching out from the womb to surge over Bulma's body. It seemed to challenge him, reminding Vegeta that he was the son of a prince after all.

"Cheeky little thing," Vegeta thought in his mind to the unborn child. "You're as arrogant as I am, and you're not yet born. Well, I'll see to it that you'll be strong, hard, and able to fight back. No human weakness will soften you. This family will be powerful and bold. Just wait till Kakkarot sees that the Prince of Saiyans will have his own advantage. Now I have a family, and my powers will grow till they surpass yours.

_**"Maybe father,"**_ thought a sensation that stunned him.

"Nani?" Vegeta gasped. Already the baby's thoughts were forming faster than a normal human. While he put words to the meaning, it was clear that his son was challenging him already from the womb. Daring him to try and mock the woman that was making this possible.

_**"I know,"**_ the baby inside seemed to say.

"Humph," Vegeta laughed. "Brat. We'll see. We'll see."

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	17. Blues for Baby Trunks

**A Taste of Heat**

_**Chapter 15 Blues for Baby Trunks**_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Bulma or Vegeta, or Dragon ball Z. Toriyama, Toei Animation Co limited do. This is fan fiction and I don't get paid for this. The only remuneration I get is your reviews, so please R and R! Thanks so much! I'll give ya a cookie!_

By Trynia Merin aka StarbearerTM

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Many months passed till that day when Bulma lay in labor for at least two days. Not wanting to have an epidural she insisted on natural birth. Now Bulma was cursing her decision to try lamaze because her body was revolting. Not to men tion her mother was irritating her to no end. In the Jacuzzi of Capsule, Bulma lay screaming and moaning. There hadn't been time to take her to the ER. 

Instead the doctors that worked in Capsule's infirmary had been summonded to the private mansion in West City. Dr. Briefs wiped away sweat, standing just outside the bathroom door. Medical equipment was being trundled into the large bathroom suite, while blue drapes covered every surface of relevance. Both he and Bunny wore the disposable gowns and face masks.

"Dende I HATE you Vegeta!" Bulma screamed at the top of her lungs. Bands of constricting fire erupted through her body with each wave.

"Dear, please, breathe," Bunny urged, rubbing her forhead. "You know your young man has to train hard to fight those nasty robots you told us all about!"

"VEGETAAAA!" Bulma screamed. "Where the HELL are you? Damn it I'll never forgive you for this! You'd better stay away from me for the next ten years after this baby's born!"

"He's not here to hear you, Princess please just settle down!" Dr. Briefs urged, rushing over to the side of the tub.

"Don't tell me what to do, Daddy! Just tell them to knock me out!" Bulma wailed.

"Please Miss Briefs you have to push," Dr. Marmelade urged. Nearby Dr. Trifle barked orders to the various nurses and gowned medical assistants to get the latest data.

"Shut up! Daddy, shut them up! I AM pushing dammit! Knock me out!" she shouted.

"We can't give you anything now, it's too late!" said Dr. Trifle.

"You JERKS I'm gonna get you for this!" she snapped, grabbing the front of his gown and tugging hard.

"Let him go, Bulma, sweetie, just relax!" Bunny urged.

"Ohhhh I wish you'd all SHUT UP! You try getting on this table and having this baby!" she screamed at the top of her lungs.

"Two centimeters and more," said the doctor to Mrs. Briefs who was anxiously sponging her daughter's forehead off.

"What the hell is going on?" rasped a voice that burst into the room. "Where is Bulma? And why is she making that awful noise.

"Here you fucking prick!" she shrilled. "Where the HELL were you?"

"Training you idiot! To save your ass and the brats…" Vegeta panted, forcing his way into the room. "Why the hell are you making that noise?"

"Excuse me sir, we'll have to ask you to leave!" one of the health care workers said.

"Shut up and get OUT of my way, slave," Vegeta snarled, grabbing the man by the front of his uniform and tossing him into a nearby chair. "Bulma, is the brat coming? What's taking so long!"

"Shut up!" she screamed at him.

"Why is she screaming, isn't she supposed to have a painkiller, what the hell is…" Vegeta ranted at the doctors and nurses nervously moving between him and his mate.

"Who is that?" Dr. Marmelade asked.

"Miss Brief's latest boyfriend," said the nurse.

"I should have known. He's just like she is," said Dr. Marmelade with a shrug.

"Vegeta, please don't do this! You're not helping my daughter!" Dr. Briefs urged, moving over and putting a hand on his arm. The frail scientist could have been crushed in his grasp, but Vegeta remembered it was his GR that was making his ascendance possible.

"Let me pass. I need to see my heir," he grunted. "Before I finish my training."

"Bulma honey, you have to push, easy now," Mrs. Briefs urged.

"Get out of my way," Vegeta snorted, lightly picking up Dr. Briefs and setting him to one side with a gloved hand. He stormed over, shoved the midwife out of the way, and then took his place behind Bulma's head.

"What are you doing here, bastard," she gasped. "Get out, I can't think with you here!"

"I'm so glad you could make it, she's been having such a hard time," Bunny lamented.

"Sir, you really shouldn't be in here without a gown!" Dr. Shrinks said. Vegeta gave them a glare when they tried to push a blue gown in his direction.

"Shut up!" Vegeta yelled at him. "Drop dead, you're all far more filthy then I am, you stupid weaklings!"

"Who is he?" whispered one of the other doctors. "By what authority."

"The child's father," Dr. Briefs said. "And you'd better not speak to him like t hat. I'm just relieved he's here at all. It's the most interest I've seen him show in weeks!"

"What does he do?"

"He's a soldier," Dr. Briefs said. "And he's royalty. And I wouldn't get in his way. I think it's better if we just let him have his way. All right?"

"But…"

"Just don't question me, all right?" Dr. Briefs urged, pushing the doctor out the door. "Look, just let him through."

"What is your problem, Bulma? The baby should have been born already!" Vegeta grumbled through clenched teeth.

"God damn you try getting onto this bed and having this baby then, you fucking asshole!" Bulma screamed at him.

Mrs. Briefs gasped as she felt the bones in her hand cracking. "Oh my goodness, honey you're… hurting…"

"Owww! I can't do this!" Bulma wailed.

"Move aside, idiot," Vegeta mumbled. He pried Bunny's hand free, then slid his own around Bulma's. Her fingers pinched in a viselike grip that surprised him with its strength. Angrily she gritted her teeth, feeling Vegeta's hand unyielding but present in her grasp.

"I can't do this," she panted.

"Of course you can, Bulma. Don't be stupid. Just have this baby already! I command it!" Vegeta ranted at her. "Come on damn it, do what you're supposed to!"

"Don't tell me what to do, you royal asshole! It's YOUR fault I'm in this mess!" she screamed, causing everyone to wince and grit their teeth.

"Push Miss Briefs, push, it's almost there. I can see the head," Dr. Marmelade urged.

"This is nothing! If I can become a Super Saiyan, you can have my baby, now get ON with it!" Vegeta gritted, feeling her fingers almost cutting off circulation in his hand.

"Screw you!" Bulma groaned, tears flowing down her cheeks. Anger collected and centered her body, giving her resolve. It dawned on her that it was a miracle he had even shown up from his training to be here out of nowhere. That last month he had vanished without so much of a message telling her he was completing his process.

"Come on Bulma, PUSH!" Vegeta rasped.

"I AM!" she let loose a final scream, tears streaming from her cheeks. Vegeta felt her almost pass out from the effort as her hand went limp in his grasp.

"What, what the hell is going wrong?" Vegeta demanded.

"Here it is, we have it!" several of the workers in their gowns chorused, reaching between her legs into a slimy bloody mess. Vegeta stared in horrid fascination at the bloody creature squirming in the mass of goo and other body fluids. It was nothing for someone used to shedding blood, but it gave him a strange sick thrill all the same.

"What the hell…" one of them gasped. "The umbilical chord… what's this…"

"You idiots, get out of the way," Vegeta wanted to say as they poked and prodded the infant. It was a small shriveled blue mass with a strange white waxy substance, but to him it was a near miraculous sight when he saw a furry object matted and dripping from the baby's spine.

"It's a tail you fools!" Vegeta ranted at them when Dr. Marmelade and Dr. Trifle looked anxiously at the baby. "Goddamn it didn't you know that it was going to happen?"

"Please Vegeta, settle down, it's all right," Dr. Briefs urged. "For him it's quite normal."

"If you say so, sir," they murmured. A loud wail of protest split their eardrums as the baby drew in its first breath. Angry and annoyed about being interrupted, baby Trunks hollered loud enough to put his mother's screams to shame. Vegeta saw the tiny mouth opening and closing, eyes scrunched and fists pumping. The tail curled and uncurled as the baby screamed a very healthy cry making everyone wince.

"Where the hell are you going, idiots, bring him back!" Vegeta ranted, rushing towards them as he let go of Bulma's hands. To their astonishment he grasped the slimy newborn possessively in his hands, fear surging through him that they were going to take him away.

Before he could stop himself he felt the wriggling mass against his armored chest. Blood stained his gloves as the baby twisted up to look at him with two very blue eyes. Vegeta mumbled in a dumbfounded voice, "His hair… it's PURPLE!"

"Of course you idiot, he's a Briefs," Bulma snapped at him. She blinked at him in annoyance, then in awe as Vegeta turned quickly around, unsure of how to hold the slimy baby that was his son.

Something wrapped around his wrist, and to his amusement Vegeta saw it was a moist furry brown tail. There was no doubt it was a Saiyan despite the wet locks of lavender hair plastered to its head. Both blue eyes fixed up into his as the baby stopped crying, and blinked up at him. Panting, Vegeta walked over to where she lay, tears in her eyes.

"Sir, we need to take the baby…"

"Drop dead," Vegeta snarled at them. "You're not TOUCHING him. Get out before I…"

"Vegeta, it's all right," Bulma gasped. "They need to…"

"He's fine, you idiots! Get them out of here before I get pissed!" Vegeta shouted at the astonished health care workers. "I don't need your stupid primitive medicines around him!"

"Vegeta, calm down please," Dr. Briefs pleaded. "They just need to weigh him and…"

"I don't need them poking and prodding like he's a damn lab specimen! He's fine! He's a Saiyan," Vegeta snorted at him.

"Vegeta," Bulma sniffled, feeling her heart melting at the sight of the indignant Saiyan prince grasping his baby like it was a toy he didn't want to give up. Those blue eyes looked somberly up into Vegeta's black ones, with a questioning look. The tail tightened around Vegeta's wrist, as if recognizing the sound of his voice.

"But the cord must be cut," said the bravest of the doctors. Then he noticed the strange mass that was laying half on the floor and realization hit him. Striding back over to Bulma, the Prince of Saiyans sheepishly noticed the bloody mass attached to the other end of the cord that had fallen to the floor.

"I see," Vegeta mumbled. "Do so. And be quick about it."

"The father traditionally cuts the cord," Bunny said, unfazed by the blood of birth. Nothing seemed to ruin her disposition, not even a newborn in all its gory beauty, Vegeta realized with amusement.

He grumbled and grudgingly took the scissors in one hand to cut the cord and get them to leave him alone. He placed the baby on Bulma's chest and snipped. Still he kept one hand behind the baby's head, while Bulma held it with her arm. He didn't seem to care much about the blood staining his white gloves and armor, because he was too curious about the baby's movements.

One of the nurses held a piece of paper, and a pad of ink. Vegeta snorted, till Bulma rolled her eyes. "It's just a formality!"

"Stupid earth customs," Vegeta grumbled, watching the process of footprinting and other things till paper was pushed at him. He scribbled his name on whatever was handed; knowing that it was for the sake of Bulma's stupid customs that he do so.

"Go I said," Vegeta ordered. "I'm done with you. Unless there's some other formality…"

"I guess she can rest here," said Dr. Briefs, apologizing to the terrified health care workers he and his wife shoed out the door. Bunny held up a blue blanket to wrap around baby Trunks, who gave a solemn look to both his mother and father.

"Why has he stopped crying?" Bunny asked. "He's so adorable, he looks just like your baby pictures, dear."

"He has my hair, but he has your eyes, Vegeta," said Dr. Briefs. "Amazing."

"IS that a tail I see? How… interesting," Mrs. Briefs said, as she wrapped the baby. "He's so adorable! Is that real fur?"

"Don't touch the tail, idiot," Vegeta snorted, smacking her hand lightly aside. "Leave it be."

"We can't have it on him, or he'll change," Bulma panted.

"Just leave it alone," Vegeta said angrily. "I need to speak to Bulma alone."

"They can hear whatever you have to say," Bulma snorted at him.

"Fine then. You both had better make certain nothing happens to the brat when I'm gone," Vegeta said. "There is more training I must do in a few days. But for now I shall be here for another two days to make certain the brat has what it needs. You will…"

"It's our grandson after all," Dr. Briefs said quietly. "You can't have a safer place for the heir of Capsule Corps."

"Vegeta, don't be a prick!" Bulma snapped. "Trunks will be fine, you know he will be!"

"Humph," mumbled Vegeta with a grunt. "I suppose you're going to insist on that name. But it's traditional…"

"That's why Vegeta's his middle name, idiot," Bulma rolled her eyes. "You think I'm that stupid? Geesh Vegeta, get a CLUE!"

"It says that on the birth certificate right here, that you signed, clear as day," Dr. Briefs said, handing it to Vegeta as Bunny picked the baby up in her arms. Vegeta allowed her to do so, figuring it was woman's work to tend to the care of children. He glanced at the piece of paper and grunted.

"So it says. Trunks Vegeta Briefs. I suppose since it's a damn fool custom to have multiple names that you insist on the last name and first being your choice," Vegeta mumbled.

"Well it's earth custom for the child to have the name of the mother," Dr. Briefs said carefully, tensing in fear that Vegeta might snap. To his relief the Prince grunted.

"Whatever. At least you have the good sense to name him after me in some capacity. But that absurd first name!"

"How else are we going to tell you apart from him?" Bulma said, smacking Vegeta's arm.

"Fine, see if I care what the brat's name is!" Vegeta snapped sullenly. "But he's the son of a prince!"

"I know," Bulma said, squeezing his hand.

"I must go," Vegeta said quietly. "I must complete my training. I may have achieved my goal, but I must show Kakkarot."

"Stay, please?" Bulma asked softly. "Please don't leave me and Trunks alone? Not yet?"

"Very well," Vegeta sniffed. Bulma saw Dr. Briefs grab a camera, and motion for his wife to bring Trunks over. Trusting her with the baby, Vegeta saw that she had wiped him clean of the blood, showing his pale skin more clearly. It was still mostly red, and the furry tail was wrapped along with him in the blanket. Oddly she had pulled a wool hat over his head, black in color, almost obscuring the purple hair.

"So his little head doesn't get cold," she grinned. Vegeta smirked, realizing that the violet tufts were lost under the black knit wool with the two points sticking up, almost like ears or devil horns. Still those blue eyes blinked around, while the baby gave them a somber frown instead of a smile. Baby Trunks seemed to turn towards the low rasping voice of the Prince they noticed.

"Say cheese," Dr. Briefs urged. Bunny nudged Vegeta to the left of Bulma's bedside, and placed the baby into his arms.

"Now wait a minute I…" he stammered, as Bulma reached up to steady him. Bright lights flashed in his face when he saw the camera go off with a whirring click. Somewhere the image of his frowning face was recorded for all time with the baby's.

"One with the two handsome young men in my daughter's life now!" Bunny giggled. Vegeta turned to protest, as Bulma shoved Trunks into his arms.

"Damn it what are you doing?" he growled, swatting at the lights dancing in his eyes. He quickly returned the baby to Bulma's arms, and rubbed his eyes.

"Don't worry, baby, you're dad's naturally a grouch," Bulma said, curling her arms around their son. Ki crackled into Vegeta's awareness, of considerable strength.

"Get out of my face before I blow that box up," Vegeta snarled at Dr. Briefs. "Leave me and Bulma alone. You've annoyed me enough! She needs to rest. I can't have her dying on me, idiots!"

Immediately Trunks opened his mouth and began to holler. Bulma glared at him, snapping, "Stop bitching! You're making the baby cry!"

"Come on dear, let's leave them alone," Bunny said, taking her husband's arm and guiding him out of Bulma's room.

"Can 't you shut him up?" Vegeta glared at her.

"You hold him, if you're so fucking smart!" she snapped. "And get me out of here, I'm freezing!"

Vegeta lifted her out of the tub, flaring his ki to dry her off. She clutched Trunks carefully, leaning her head on his shoulder while he carried her into the bedroom. Gently he lay her down, after pulling back the covers for her. Still she was trying to stop baby Trunks from screaming.

"Pain in the ass," Vegeta mumbled, sullenly taking the baby from her.

"Hand me that gown there. I think he's hungry, and I've no clue how to breast feed," she sighed. He tossed her a gown, clutching Trunks gingerly.

"Will you stop that obnoxious noise you brat?" Vegeta growled at the baby. At sound of his voice, Baby Trunks glanced up in surprise. The cries seemed to stop at once.

"I can't believe it, that's just not possible," Bulma mumbled.

"He listens to his father. Smart boy," Vegeta snickered.

"Give him here, I might as well break these in," she sighed wearily. Vegeta carried his son over, sitting down on the edge of his bed in armor and all. He feigned boredom at the sight of her opening her robe to reveal a creamy breast. Cursing and swearing, Bulma endured the first nursing with her amused Prince looking on.

* * *

Vegeta's eyes glazed over when Bulma explained about breast pumps and regular feeding while Trunks ate his first meal. He had lost interest as soon as she described all the stupid things a mother had to do with a newborn. It seemed so much simpler how Nappa described Saiyan infants being reared in gestational tanks and then being handed off to slaves or females to rear while the males looked in. 

_A royal wet nurse had taken care of him. As far as he could remember he rarely saw his biological mother. Only the slaves who had reared him and tutored him in the enclosed bubble of the royal palace. From day one he was a first priority for he was one of the few royal heirs that survived birth. Making his mother the chief Concubine and ensuring her primacy as his father's favorite. From a dozen Saiyan females she had produced the royal male heir, and that made her Queen._

_Not that she had survived long. After giving birth to Vegeta, she had died. Of course that saddened his father, but only temporarily. She was given a proper state burial and hailed as the Queen who had given Vegetasei its next King. He had only been five when she was no longer a presence in his life. Still he struggled images of her to his mind as he watched Bulma nursing Trunks for some comparison. Such things he had not recalled for ages because they were things that hindered his training._

"Vegeta, would you please hold him?" Bulma asked.

"Why?" he mumbled.

"You were so quick to keep him away from those doctors and now you won't even hold him? Excuse me?"

"I'm a prince, not a babysitter," he said with a snort. "IF you're so weary, get a wet nurse and slave to tend him. Your mother seems adept to the task."

"Damn you, get your ass over here and hold him while I get some fucking sleep or I'll detonate that GR and you in it!" she snapped at him.

"Stupid pain in the ass," Vegeta mumbled.

"There's nobody to see you, so you won't get embarrassed, your Royal Nastiness," she snorted.

"Fine, give me the brat and shut up!" Vegeta snapped, snatching Trunks away.

"Stop being a prick. Here's the blanket, that armor you're wearing is too hard!" she snapped. "And you have to support his little head!"

"Don't tell me how to hold my son, Bulma," he growled, positioning Trunks in his arm just like he had seem Mrs. Briefs do. "I'm not a stupid ningen!"

"Thank you," she said.

"Just sleep damn it. I can't believe this idiocy. Why on Vegetasei I had ten slaves nursing me, I just don't get this," Vegeta growled.

Grumbling he paced back and forth with Trunks, not sure of what to do. This was the work of women, not a Prince, he thought. How dare she make HIM do what she could hire any servant to do instead? Didn't she know how to properly use her wealth?

"Your mother can be such an idiot, brat," Vegeta mumbled. Trunks answered with a whimpering cry.

"Don't make that disagreeable noise," Vegeta snapped. "Warriors don't cry."

Trunks glanced up at him, perfectly silent to his relief and amusement with wide blue eyes. It seemed like the baby was searching for something in his father's scowling face. "Humph, that's better. You'd do well to listen to your father, brat. After all, I can't have you picking up those damn fool notions she's going to shower you with. You're a Prince's son, and you have certain expectations of your father. Namely that when I tell you to do something you obey without question. Got that?"

Trunks blinked up at him, still silent. Vegeta nodded. "Yes, you do know what I'm saying. When I'm gone you'll behave yourself of course. And you'll not be a spoiled brat like your mother. She's smart, but she is infernally clingy. I may be holding you now, but don't get used to it, boy. I'm doing this because you're an infant and it's expected. I can't have you howling your head off. But don't think I'm going to make a habit of spoiling you with such indulgences like this."

Vegeta suddenly saw a white liquid dribbling from the boy's mouth and groaned. He suddenly realized why Bulma insisted on that stupid receiving blanket with the ducks and birdies on it. Cursing he wiped away the drool and gave a few measured taps to burp the boy as he'd been told.

"Your mother throws up the same way to get back at me, brat. Honestly, you're going to be the death of me if you keep playing her games," Vegeta grumbled.

A loud howling split his concentration. Vegeta cursed again in Saiyago, lowering the boy to jiggle him in those stupid-rocking motions he saw Bulma and her mother perform. Finally he settled for holding Trunks still while he walked around. The walls seemed to close in around him, and Vegeta wandered over to the open door.

"This is stupid. I can't think," he snapped. "Stop crying brat, I command it! Now!"

Still Trunks didn't listen and Vegeta let out a sigh of disgust. Grabbing the boy close he stepped out onto the balcony and leapt off. A loud cry stopped instantly when Vegeta streaked out over Capsule and towards the city to get away. Relief filled him at the silence mingling with what sounded like a cooing gurgle. Looking down he saw blue eyes blinking along with his tiny mouth twisted into a smile.

"That shut you up. Well as soon as I beat the crap out of those tin cans I'm going to train you," said Vegeta. "I won't have you growing up like that weakling Gohan with his harpy mother. You're going to be stronger then Kakkarot's brat ever was."

Suddenly he tensed, sensing someone's familiar aura. Vegeta growled low, holding his son to himself as he flared up his power. To his left and right appeared the familiar figures of Goku and Piccolo, blinking in confusion.

"Just where do you think you're going with that baby, Vegeta?" asked Piccolo.

"None of your damn business. Get OUT of my way!" Vegeta snapped.

"Piccolo easy, he's just taking the little guy for a flight," Goku said. "You know he wouldn't' hurt a baby."

"We don't know that!" Piccolo snapped.

"What are you doing here, I repeat. Before I blast you into the next dimension!" Vegeta rasped at them both. "I told you to mind your own Kami damned Business!"

"Vegeta he's adorable!" Goku said to Piccolo. "Hey there little guy!"

"Don't get any stupid ideas Kakkarot!" Vegeta glared at him. "I won't have you thinking that…"

"He looks JUST like you Vegeta! This is awesome! How does it feel to be a daddy?" Goku laughed aloud. "Isn't it GREAT?"

"How did you know…" Vegeta spluttered.

"Oh come on he frowns JUST like you do!" Goku laughed, drifting closer for a look.

"Stay back you clown!" Vegeta snorted. "You're not going to piss me off with your stupidity!"

"Dad, what's going on… why was Mr. Piccolo so annoyed," Gohan asked, streaking up and stopping at Goku's side.

"Oh don't tell me you invited your loser friends here!" Vegeta snarled. "What are YOU staring at, kid? Never seen a baby before?"

"Vegeta's a daddy! Isn't it GREAT?" Goku laughed.

"Oh wow, no way!" Gohan laughed. "Wow… but when…"

"If it is your affair the brat was born yesterday. And Bulma wouldn't shut her damn mouth unless I took the brat. But you'd better BOTH forget what you're seeing here, because I won't…"

"Gosh Vegeta we won't tell, will we, son?" Goku said quickly. "I won't tell anyone, you know that!"

"Because if you do I'll rip your head off and spit down your neck, Kakkarot!" Vegeta snarled.

"Jeez Vegeta, relax! You're making him upset. What's his name?" asked Gohan.

"Humph I've wasted enough time with your losers. Get lost," Vegeta snorted, clutching Trunks close and rocketing off towards Capsule.

"This is GREAT!" Goku laughed, grabbing up Gohan and hugging him. "Vegeta's a DADDY! Just like me!"

"You mean that was Vegeta's kid? You mean him and Bulma?" Gohan blinked. "I thought…"

"It's a secret," Goku shushed him. "I promised Vegeta I wouldn't' tell. And besides Bulma's gonna bring him by to see us I'm sure when she's good and ready. I just know she'll be asking Chichi to baby-sit!"

"Wow, Vegeta a dad. That's really something else," Gohan blinked. "It's unbelievable. But he won't hurt the baby will he?"

"No he won't," Goku said with a nod. "He wouldn't hurt his own son. I mean he didn't hurt Bulma, right?"

"Dad, are you not telling me something, cause you look awfully funny," said Gohan suspiciously.

"Who me, no way? Don't be silly!" Goku said giving him an innocent laugh.

"Okay dad, whatever, but you're really weird when you know things we don't before we do," Gohan shrugged, knowing better than to question his father.

"Vegeta and a baby?" Oolong mumbled as he saw the Saiyan Prince streaking overhead. "What the hell is he doing?"

"None of our business," Piccolo said as he appeared next to the shape shifting pig. "Ignore it."

"But I saw Vegeta holding a baby what gives?" Oolong shrugged.

"How the hell should I know. He's flying back to capsule with it, and I suggest you and I leave now if you want to leave alive," said Piccolo.

"Um… okay, but this is the weirdest thing I've seen since I showed up with Krillen at Bulma's house more than a year ago," Oolong mumbled as he timidly walked away in the opposite direction of the Namekian.

Goku suddenly popped out of nowhere, scaring the heck out of his friends. "Hi there! Hey I haven't seen you in ages!"

"Goku, don't DO that, you almost scared me to death! I'm not a young piglet anymore!" Oolong complained.

"If you just saw Vegeta flying overhead don't worry it's all right," said Goku. "He just said if anyone saw him just forget what they saw."

"Say what?"

"Just listen to him, and keep your mouth shut," said Piccolo. "Right Goku?"

"I guess that would be a good idea, we did promise," said Goku.

"Okay, whatever you say," Oolong mumbled, wandering off in confusion. Gohan landed next to his father and mentor, glancing around.

"You think we should be here, if Vegeta's flying around? He doesn't want us here," said Gohan. "He seemed pretty upset."

"I think you guys should just go back home to Mt. Pauzo, and I'll talk to Bulma myself," said Goku.

"You only just got better from that virus. I think you should go back, Dad," said Gohan. "I'll go talk to Bulma-san, okay?"

"He's right," said Piccolo. "Go home."

"Okay guys, if you insist," said Goku, holding up his hands. He touched fingers to his forehead, then vanished before their eyes. Piccolo grunted down at Gohan, and then rose into the air. Soon he was a purple and green streak in the distance.

* * *


	18. Princely Daycare? Goku's Challenge

_I don't own Dragon Ball Z. Toriyama created them, Funimation distributes the show, and Toei animation co. brought them to life. I only own the plot here, and it's a work of fan fiction, which I don't get paid for. My only pay is your wonderful reviews! So keep them coming! Many thanks! This story means no harm to Dragon Ball Z._

**A Taste of Heat **

By Trynia Merin a.k.a. Polymer a.k.a. StarbearerTM

_**Goku's Challenge to the Prince **_

_My Thanks to all of you who continue to review! Here's where Vegeta gets a taste of Daddy Daycare from Goku!_

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For the past hour Vegeta soared over West City. His course waved through the spires before taking him out into the wilds beyond. Where green trees comprised a sizeable forest reserved for suburbs, businesses and recreation. After his mini confrontation with Piccolo, Goku and Gohan his mood soured indeed. Somehow the reality of Kakkarot's supremacy came crashing in all around him. So much for a moment that he forgot the squirming of the new life in his gloved hands.

Against his armored breastplate Vegeta had lay a small receiving blanket because Bulma said the baby needed softness against its delicate skin. A loud gurgling cry sounded from the baby, alerting Vegeta to the reality of his present situation. Glancing down he saw sapphire eyes glancing expectantly into his along with tiny fists beating on his breastplate. Face reddening, Baby Trunks hollered at the top of his lungs.

"Now what?" Vegeta growled impatiently. Snorting he was half tempted to turn around and take him back. Yet a strange sense of possessiveness closed over him. Just what sort of creature was a baby? Curiosity got the better of him, and he landed in a remote clearing.

"Damn it, will you stop crying?" Vegeta lamented, clutching the baby.

"Are you okay?" someone said.

"Kakkarot!" Vegeta exploded, whirling around. "What are YOU doing here! Isn't there a place on this damn planet I can be ALONE?"

"I guess not. Looks like you're having a crisis, and I thought I'd check and see if you were okay," Goku said, glancing down at the baby as he approached.

"I'm FINE! I don't NEED your help, you clown!" Vegeta snorted.

"Hey there little guy. When's the last time you changed or fed him? He might just be wet or hungry," Goku said.

"He's doing it to piss me off!" Vegeta snarled, rocking his body to get the boy to shut up. "I can't keep the baby from howling! I thought perhaps flying around would shut him up."

"Vegeta, it's okay. I can help..."

"Whatever! I swear if you tell..."

"I promise this stays between you and me," Goku said, carrying something in his hand. To Vegeta's shock he saw it was a diaper bag, slightly battered.

"What the HELL is that?"

"Chichi heard about Bulma having a baby. And then when I saw you with that little guy I figured you were going nuts cause Bulma was driving you crazy," said Goku.

"How do you know that..." Vegeta stammered.

"Well considering you two have been staying together at Capsule, and Yamucha..."

"That idiot talks too damn much!" Vegeta snapped.

"Well, I know he's yours. He's got your eyes, and that frown's all Vegeta," Goku joked.

"If you're so damn smart, YOU try shutting him up, you clown!" Vegeta snorted, shoving Trunks at Goku.

"Easy, you gotta take it easy. Here, let me show you some ways to 'shut up' a baby. Gohan was just as fussy as this. Anybody can learn how," Goku said.

"So you're saying that any IDIOT can care for a brat?" Vegeta snickered.

"Is the Prince too scared to learn how to change a diaper?" Goku joked.

"Shut up! I can do anything you can, and 100 times better you third class clown!" Vegeta snarled.

"Here, spread this blanket out and I'll show you. If you stick your finger in his diaper you can tell if he's wet and it's gotta be changed. Then the next thing you check is if he's hungry. Does he have a bottle?"

"Do I look like F.AO Schwartz?" Vegeta glared, standing over the blanket he hurled down before them. Goku dropped to his knees and clutched Trunks, then handed the bag to Vegeta.

"Chichi won't tell either. There are some diapers and a change of clothes. From Gohan when he was a baby. I guess you won't mind if I show you a thing or two. It will make Bulma happy if you can change a diaper," Goku teased. He made funny faces as he swung Trunks around. To his shock, Vegeta noticed his son had gurgled and ceased his crying. Perhaps there was something to being a clown after all. But it wasn't the Prince's style.

"Stupid," he mumbled, but crouched on one knee as Goku unwrapped the blanket and unsnapped the onesie that the boy wore. Arms kicked and flailed as Trunks scrunched his face and let out another series of wails.

"There's a fresh diaper in there, and some powder and wipes. First thing you gotta do is hold your nose cause it STINKS," Goku grimaced. "Isn't it? You made a stink didn't you little guy huh?"

"Must you speak in that ANNOYING high pitched voice?" Vegeta groaned, throwing a diaper and a blue container at Goku. He continued to babble in that tone not too far from his usual childlike voice, but at least it drowned out his son's crying.

"Now you unfold it like this, and then you pull the old one off... oops, these are disposable," Goku groaned. "Give me a pin will you?"

"These are cloth? You mean you hold it together with that flimsy thing?" Vegeta shook his head. Goku lifted Trunks by his heels, and slid the cloth diaper under him. Quickly he wiped down whatever mess was made while shoving the pin in his mouth to hold it. Then he tossed the wipe and crunched it into the soiled diaper while Vegeta winced from the continued stink. He'd smelled some foul things on the battlefield, but this was quite an odor all its own. Next he almost sneezed when Goku doused the kid's lower parts with powder, then contoured the diaper into some origami shape so he could fold the bottom, left then right sides and pin it just so.

"There we are! Nice and dry!" Goku laughed, whisking off the onsie that was soaked with formula and spit up. "Get me that other set of clothes. I'm sure Bulma won't mind if he wears the loaner."

"It looks like adult clothes," Vegeta shook his head, throwing the small silk pants and top towards Goku. Momentarily he tugged them on, and Vegeta saw they were at least elasticized, then lifted Trunks' torso to slide the jacket on and hook it up with the silk frogs. All the while Goku seemed in complete control while the baby wailed on. He cautiously slid the small furry tail through the hole in the pants as well, astonishing the Prince that he knew well enough to minimize contact.

"There we are! All clean and dry, right?" he teased, then lowered his face to make a raspberry noise on the boy's stomach.

"I'm going to be ill," Vegeta groaned, picking up the soiled diaper and throwing it up. With two fingers he sent a beam incinerating it to nothingness. Blue sparks harmlessly flared up, causing the boy to shriek in delight.

"Well that's ONE way of getting rid of a dirty diaper. Chichi always yelled at me when I wanted to do that with the cloth ones," Goku said not missing a beat.

"Huh, I can't see how anyone can STAND to do this several times a day! And clean those damn things," Vegeta snorted.

"Does Bulma breast feed or use formula?" Goku asked.

"How the hell should I know... wait she wanted to breast feed the brat. And there's no friggin way I brought any of that..." he trailed off.

"Easy, I have some formula here. Lucky enough Chichi stocked up way more then we ever thought we'd need," Goku reassured him. "Maybe you'd better hold onto this while I get one ready."

"What?" asked Vegeta, eyes widening in horror. "Haven't I suffered enough?"

"Are you scared of your own son? C'mon Vegeta it's not THAT bad," Goku teased him.

"Shut up Kakkarot and hand me the baby," Vegeta snarled, snatching Trunks back. To his surprise the boy didn't object. His hand slid up and down Vegeta's hard white armored breastplate, breath misting against it. Luckily there wasn't anything for him to grab onto. But when his little fists happened to pelt against Vegeta's chest, he could feel something of the force inadvertently in the baby's hands. Ki flared for a second as Vegeta fumbled with the right way to hold the squirming boy. He opted for simply supporting the back of the neck and holding the boy's bottom in his other gloved hand.

Meanwhile he watched Goku fussing with pouring a package of powered formula into a bottle and adding water. Simply by holding it in his hand he gently concentrated enough ki to warm it to body temperature. So apparently the child didn't have to fully rely on the archaic practice of nursing, Vegeta thought. It shocked him to see that a male could so readily care for a baby; something Vegeta swore was for women.

"Why even Bother Kakkarot? Doesn't your wife do this?" asked Vegeta, as he passed Trunks back to his worst enemy, to see if the third class would make a bigger fool of himself then before.

"It doesn't make you any less of a man to be a good father, Vegeta," Goku glared at him.

"We're SAYANS, not nursemaids!"

"Hey, any SAIYAN can make a baby with his wife, but a real man is a father," Goku glared at Vegeta, suddenly lowering his brows. "I don't care WHAT nonsense you heard from whoever, but you're no less a fighter if you can change a diaper."

"What... how dare you..." Vegeta stammered.

"I raised my son for four years and trained," Goku glared at him. "I won't have you making Bulma feel like what she does is any less important then what we do!"

"Why you insolent clown, you dare judge ME, the great Vegeta! I should kill you NOW for your audacity!" Vegeta snarled. Trunks started to shove the bottle away, whimpering.

"Who's acting like a baby now?" Goku cooed to Trunks. "Looks like your daddy has a lot to learn about you little guy. Honestly you're a baby. What could be more wonderful then that? But I guess it's too much for him to handle taking care of you once in a while, huh?"

"I... you... son of a..." Vegeta stammered, face flushing so red Goku could see steam coming out his ears. Trunks squirmed as Goku turned him over to gently burp him, holding the bottle in his hand. Vegeta turned around, resisting the urge to destroy something as he saw Goku making a complete mockery of him. Something inside him snapped, and his fists crackled with ki.

"Ah ah, language," Goku teased him.

"I can't believe... you..." Vegeta snarled.

"Then prove me wrong, Vegeta," Goku said sternly. "Is it THAT hard for even a PRINCE to feed and burp his own son? Maybe where you came from you shot little guys like him into space, but he's lucky. He knows who his father and mother are. I didn't. Lucky for everyone I had my Grandpa. In three years, this guy might not have ANYONE to look after him. Do you want that, Vegeta?"

"Shut up!" Vegeta snarled, snatching Trunks away. The baby momentarily howled beating against his father's chest as Vegeta hissed with bared fangs at Goku. Angrily he repositioned the baby as he had seen Bulma do, and thrust the bottle towards his lips.

Gnashing his teeth, Vegeta whirled to put his back to Goku. Saying nothing he watched his son reach out to grab the bottle and drag it to his lips again. Blue eyes again focussed up at Vegeta's dark ones expectantly. Under his breath Vegeta mumbled unflattering curses and oaths in Saiyanese, a language he hoped the child would someday learn. Was he this helpless? How dare Kakkarot say such slanderous things?

"I guess maybe the Prince of Saiyans is a man after all," Goku said with a smile of triumph, watching father and son in a quiet moment.

"I should kill you Kakkarot," said Vegeta after a time.

"Don't forget to burp him every 2 or was it three ounces," Goku called.

"Don't tell me what to do, jerk," Vegeta mumbled. Out of Goku's sight he turned Trunks to lean his chin on his hard armored shoulder. Trunks seized a handful of Vegeta's featherlike hair, tugging it tightly as he felt firm pats on his lower back. Vegeta sensed the strength in Trunks pull, while the flat of his hand met greater resistance against Trunks bone and muscle structure. Discernibly the Prince's eyes widened at the realization that his son was not a frail creature of flesh and bone, but a dense compact demi Saiyan. Gohan had been far tougher then a frail human baby, the same held true with his son.

Not to mention how painfully tightly Trunks little fist closed around and pulled hard on Vegeta's hair. The Prince's intense frown turned to a smirk when he gently pried Trunks fist from his hair so he could settle him down again and coax him to drink the rest of the formula. Goku winked, waving at the baby before touching two fingers to his forehead.

"Bye bye Vegeta, later!" Goku said.

"About time you got lost Kakkarot," Vegeta snorted. Still he turned away to face Kakkarot with his royal posterior. When he no longer sensed Goku's ki he at last turned around. Right in front of Vegeta's booted toe sat the blanket and baby bag full of various baby things.

Back and forth Vegeta glanced to reassure himself nobody was watching. He lowered himself and sat down lotus style on the center of the Chinese wool blanket. Silky material gleamed blue like Trunks eyes, while the red silk pants contrasted. Chichi had probably dressed Gohan in these odd baby clothes so different from what Bulma dressed Trunks in. They had an elegance to them much like the silk garments Napa described him having been placed in when Freiza first saw him.

"Stupid clown," Vegeta grunted. Trunks at last finished the bottle. Vegeta sniffed at the formula realizing it must be a thick protein enhanced recipe especially designed for a Saiyan. It burned him up inside how Goku had challenged him in such a manner. To think he couldn't take care of his own son? What did he care what Kakkarot thought?

"I am a Prince and a warrior. And nobody will accuse ME of not being man enough for this," he thought. Then it dawned on him that Goku had outsmarted him into this. By challenging Vegeta's honor and pride he'd tricked him into playing nursemaid. Suddenly Vegeta's respect for Goku's guilt rose exponentially.

"That sneaky bastard! I didn't think he was capable of such... trickery. Perhaps he isn't the brainless oaf I originally thought him to be. Stupid Kakkarot, I'll prove him wrong!" Vegeta smirked.

"I will NOT speak in that ridiculous inane gibberish though, boy," Vegeta said gruffly to Trunks.

The boy's small brow furrowed in a parody of Vegeta's face. To his surprise Vegeta realized when he changed his facial expressions, Trunks would mirror them. This caused him to widen his eyes resulting in a mirror image of the expression in his son's tiny face. Wisps of pale hair curled out from under the black pointy-eared cap Goku had left on, along with that silly silk bib.

"Huh, I'll be damned," Vegeta mumbled. At least Trunks responded to the sound of his harsh gruff voice. Almost as much as he did to the high pitched nonsense Goku had thrown in his son's face.

Something prompted Vegeta to reach down for the soft blanket sticking out of the baby diaper bag. Worn and threadbare, the receiving blanket smelled of Gohan and Goku's scent, remotely Saiyan. Despite this Vegeta held trunks steady so he could drape the blanket over his hard armored shoulder. He settled Trunks into the curve of his muscular arm in order to watch the boy mimic his regal scowl, or a devilish smirk.

"Do I look that ridiculous?" he wondered.

Something in the exotic slant of Trunks eyes to his wide forehead buried under the fringe of hair exuded the Vegeta royal line. If the boy had dark hair he'd look identical to him as a baby. Too bad the hair was such a fool color, along with those sapphire eyes with such intensity. Vegeta peered down to see if he could glimpse his own reflection in the boy's eyes. To his shock he saw only the glimmer of refracted light, and a bottomless piercing quality that resembled the look in Saiyan eyes. Due to the density of Saiyan tissues and the composition of their bodily fluids, there was no reflection of an image in their eyes like in human ones.

"He has the gaze of a Saiyan, and the strength in body. And his ki is surprisingly strong," Vegeta nodded. "You're an enigma. I should think myself weak holding you, but this is merely a position so you can feed yourself. It's not the same as that mushy clinging your mother insists upon."

That was it. He wasn't hugging the boy; he was only holding him because that was a function of sharing body heat. Warm ki flared up to keep the baby warm enough in the quickening wind. Vegeta stood up, holding Trunks with one hand as he folded the blanket and replaced the other stuff in the battered diaper bag. He slung it over one arm, then locked both gloved hands around his son.

"Enough, let's see this fool planet you've been relegated to. Perhaps someday you might rule it in some manner," Vegeta said quietly to Trunks.

White booted feet rose off the ground. Trunks cooed at the sudden burst of speed his father exhibited. Royal blue ki surrounded father and infant son. Soon they burst at the speed of sound through the skies. All Vegeta heard was the laughter of Trunks and the cooing of a happy infant along with the rushing of the wind around his ki envelope. A small smirk twisted the corner of his mouth up to see his boy enjoying the acceleration.

Napa had said the gravity of this world made him feel invincible, like a kid again. Now these words rushed back to Vegeta as he flew along with his infant son. Blue eyes flickered in wonder at the ground vanishing into open ocean. Vegeta laughed richly with the enjoyment of such solitude. It seemed so simple to just carry this child along for a flight that would drive his mother insane. By now Bulma would be screaming at him to stop. Instead of crying Trunks laughed along with him, making loud squealing noises and flailing his little hands so the royal ki crackled over them. Small sparks flew from Trunks fists, alerting Vegeta of the rise in ki.

"Settle down, brat," Vegeta murmured. "You're going to have to control that power of yours. Let me show you how it's done."

Vegeta focussed carefully, suddenly stopping in mid flight. He held Trunks out at arm length, probing the small mind that had shot out at him those two times during pregnancy. Tendrils of Saiyan power brushed out, matched by the search of a strong young mind. Mere thoughts and images surged at the sensory overload. **_"Do you understand boy? You can feel the power flowing through you. Let it sleep till you know better."_**

**_"I know,"_** came the form of thoughts. Not so much words, but the clear intent of understanding his Saiyan mind interpreted as speech.

Vegeta's white-gloved hands clutched Trunks on either side of his body, while the baby showed enough strength to hold his own head up, surpassingly. Far different from normal newly born Earth infants.

"You must control it. That's why I don't waste emotional energy in foolish displays. Anger and hatred can be powerful weapons. If used properly," Vegeta said aloud.

**_"Love?"_** came another thought from the infant's young mind.

"You'll have to look to your mother for that one, brat," Vegeta thought back. "I don't comprehend that."

**_"Father, daddy...not mother. Protector,"_** came the infant Trunks thoughts, seemingly beaming between the blue eyes focussed into his. While speech would not yet come to the small infant's mouth the thoughts were already forming sentences in a manner suggesting high Saiyan intelligence."

"Protector and Prince of all Saiyans. You are a Prince's son. Never forget that. And as such certain behaviors are expected. A Prince must be hard as steel and brilliant as a diamond. Cold and ruthless so that emotions cannot destroy his invincibility. There are times and places the emotions and things like tenderness can be locked away. Perhaps as you grow to be a man you'll know what I mean," Vegeta caught himself saying.

**_"Why?"_** came the boy's thoughts, his blue eyes wide, a low grunt from the small lips parted. Lavender brows furrowed in an identical manner to those of his father staring into his face.

"You're too young to understand, Trunks," Vegeta mumbled to the boy. "Let's take you home to your Mother."


	19. A Prince no more important then his Lady

_I don't own Dragon Ball Z. Toriyama created them, Funimation distributes the show, and Toei animation co. brought them to life. I only own the plot here, and it's a work of fan fiction, which I don't get paid for. My only pay is your wonderful reviews! So keep them coming! Many thanks! This story means no harm to Dragon Ball Z._

**A Taste of Heat**

By Trynia Merin

_**A Woman's Role Is No Less then Her Prince's**_

Rated M for Implied Lemon, language.

* * *

Drawing Trunks into his arms again, Vegeta held him securely but not too tightly in one arm. He dove through the clouds, misting around both of them. Soon the main dome of Capsule spun beneath them. Black hair waved back and forth in the generated currents, crackling with blue ki. Trunks shrieked not in fear but delight, small hands flailing and grabbing at Vegeta's dark hair. Vegeta shifted the boy to lay his head on his shoulder, forming a fist before him while cradling his son in a semi sitting position against his chest. That's why the small fist could snatch the spike of hair immediately behind Vegeta's ear. At that last moment Vegeta pulled out of the dive, leveling off to cause a cracking boom that rattled all of Capsule's windows.

Trunks slid up slightly so his face was turned to his father's ear. His small toothless gums clamped down on Vegeta's earlobe with the force of a vise. Vegeta gasped at the painful pressure squashing his ear, and then laughed. "Quite a bite you have, boy."

Bulma gritted her teeth when she heard the windows rattling. Racing onto the balcony she saw a blue streak speeding towards Capsule one moment, then a hovering figure in blue and white the next. Gracefully the Prince drifted downwards till he levitated at the precise height of her window's balcony. Bulma tapped a slippered foot and frowned at the sight of her husband carrying their baby so casually.

"Well, what the hell kept you so long! I was worried sick!" Bulma ranted.

"Quiet Bulma you'll wake the baby," Vegeta shushed her, placing a finger over her lips. To her shock she glanced down at the diaper bag slung over Vegeta's one wrist not holding their sleeping child.

"What on EARTH is he wearing?" she whispered fiercely.

"Clothes, what else? You think I'd let the brat run naked? Honestly, what sort of man do you think the Prince of All Saiyans is?" Vegeta smirked at her. Five seconds from blowing her top, Bulma whirled around in a huff. Presented with such a tempting view of her robe-clad ass, Vegeta chuckled softly. He levitated just high enough to clear the railing so he could drop down gently on the balcony behind her.

Bulma crossed both her arms across her chest in a mimic of his indignant pose. Instead of further needling her Vegeta walked past his mate into the bedroom beyond. His footsteps echoed through the carpeted floors in the direction of the small nursery she had prepared while he was away in space. Blue eyes snapped open in shock while her feet carried her after him quickly.

Silently Vegeta approached the large crib covered with a cloth awning. He carefully laid Trunks on his back on the mattress, and then pulled the blanket to his son's hips. Although Trunks stirred he did not wake up to Vegeta's delight. Once done he wheeled on his booted heel to exit the room. Narrowly he avoided colliding with an indignant Bulma. Just inside the door of the nursery he dropped the diaper bag Goku had brought him in the middle of the woods an hour or so before. Onyx eyes flickered back and forth surveying the room's blue and purple interior. Bright gold toned stars were pained on its ceiling clustered around a smiling sun faced center lamp. Just over the crib dangled a colorful mobile comprised of small planes and other flying machines in miniature.

"At least it's not that disgusting pink," Vegeta snorted, still facing away from Bulma.

"Thank Kami," she breathed. Carefully she closed the door till it was just a crack of thin blue light before approaching the statue still figure of the Prince.

"Well, what have you to say for yourself?" he grunted. "Why are you pissed off when you wanted me to take care of the brat for the day? Some thanks I get for playing nursemaid."

"Vegeta you drive me crazy," Bulma groaned. Immediately behind him he sensed her ki. Hands stole around his waist from behind; hooking her soft robe covered chest to his armored back.

The contrast between her soft body and his armored one represented their diametric states of being. Bulma, feminine and plush contrasting to smooth angled hardness of a Prince. In the circle of her arms Vegeta whirled around with oiled precision of a drill soldier. Dark graceful brows furrowed over his bottomless eyes, taking in hers.

"You're wearing that new armor," she said quietly. Bulma pretended to wipe an invisible spot from the flawless white surface. A gloved hand caught hers, pulling it firmly up to his cheek. He turned his head so he could lightly nip the inner palm.

"Perhaps you aren't as much a weakling as I had initially thought," he muttered, fixing her in his gaze.

"Excuse me?" she snorted.

"Taking care of that brat's no easy work. That's why you're better equipped to do it," Vegeta coughed.

"If it's because I'm a woman I'll kill you!" she said through clenched teeth.

"Not so. Don't interrupt me, woman," said Vegeta, shaking his head. "I'm a warrior you're a scientist and a mother. You know more about things that I can't comprehend. It's too late for me to be a soft hearted sort like the type that you'd expect. I am the product of my past as much as you are."

"I don't want you to change, Vegeta. I just want you to be a father to him. And you proved to me you can. I was just not expecting it that's all," she said.

"A Prince doesn't normally change diapers, but he can if it is necessary. I never said I wouldn't spend time with the brat. It's just not my role. But to prove to you my word's sincerity I did so," Vegeta said matter of fact, clutching her hand in his.

"Thank you, Vegeta, that's all I wanted," Bulma nodded slowly, clearing her throat from the lump that formed.

"Bulma, I don't want the brat to die because I wasn't strong enough, man enough to protect you. You don't wish to die in two years or him to die, do you?"

"No! Of course not!" Bulma cried, shaking her head violently.

"Then let me train. Let me grow strong enough to protect you both so that the brat will have a future," Vegeta explained, not looking away.

"You're asking me to sit here while you go away again, is that it?" she nodded, swallowing hard. Although she did not cry outwardly inside she was weeping.

"Yes, Bulma. It's the only way. I don't leave here for weeks on end to piss you off but to achieve my birthright. In order that Trunks will achieve his, don't you see?" Vegeta said.

"Don't be a stranger to him. I want him to know he has a father, and that I have the man that… that is my mate," Bulma said, not wanting to say aloud that she loved him. She knew he would ridicule her for being so mushy.

"You don't comprehend, Bulma. Your fight is here, with the brat. Mine is there, with those tin cans. But today I have seen that they are no less important. What you must do is as essential as what I must do Bulma. That's the only father I can be right now. I can change the brat's diapers and fix its bottles, but that's not as important as being the strongest fighter right now. When the battle is won, then I can be here so much you'll bitch at me to leave," Vegeta explained with a low voice like velvet. A note of concern wrapped in with the horseness, melting her already breaking heart.

"I hate it when you're right," Bulma complained. Leaning forward she kissed his brow then wove her arms around his neck to squeeze him tightly. Vegeta encircled her waist with his gloved hands, resting his chin in the groove of her shoulder.

"I know. I usually am," he chuckled lightly against her ear.

"Jerk," she mumbled, nibbling on his ear. "When do you have to go?"

"I will leave tomorrow. To train in the wilderness. But you will see me around to use the graviton. And for other reasons," he said, sliding his hands down to rub her backside lightly. Bulma's own hands stole down to grip his muscled ass and pinch it. Vegeta's lips parted in a hissing gasp, his hands crushing her close.

"Stay with me tonight. Give me enough to remember you in the times when you're gone, you lunkhead," she urged.

"That boy in there, he's as much you as me. You won't forget me so easily because of him screaming and carrying on, will you?" Vegeta scolded her. "He's a Prince's son. And you're a Prince's mate."

"Tell me something I don't know," she responded. Lightly she brushed her lips over his, feeling him repositioning his head so he could catch her mouth clumsily before devouring her mouth. Lifting her in his arms he carried her towards their bed. Still Bulma's room was covered in shades of sickening pink, but he noticed blue drapes and the absence of the net of stuffed animals.

"Let me remind you that you belong to the Saiyan Prince, the Mighty Vegeta, who protects you and his son," Vegeta purred, levitating up to lay her on the bed. He sat on her hips, bearing down on her with only a bit of his weight. Sturdy muscled thighs imprisoned her. He divested himself of the weighed armored breastplate, tossing it aside, and then leaned down to pull the halves of the robe open.

Vegeta straightened his one leg out, toeing his boot off by abruptly kicking and swiping the other down it. To do this he had to lay his full weight on Bulma's chest. With a grunt he removed the other. Both landed with a thump on the side of the bed. All she could see through half veiled eyes was the spiky cone of that hair of his and feel his lips worshipping her glorious white skin. Slipping a bare leg between his Bulma twisted her body abruptly to one side. Vegeta grunted as she spun them both over so he was under her.

"Hmm, you learned a trick or two?" he smirked.

"You taught me that, remember?" she chuckled.

"When?" Vegeta muttered against the smooth column of her throat.

"Sometimes when you'd attack me out of nowhere and insist I needed to know a little self defense. I was listening," she whispered, grasping his wrists and pinning his hands above his head with light strength. Her thighs encompassed his waist, and she rubbed her hips overtop his spandex covered pelvis. Rocking up she slid her fingers between the seams that separated his shirt from his leggings, pulling the cloth up. Vegeta's hands folded behind his head, watching her with amusement. He'd let her have the dominant position then he'd show her a thing or two.

Her tongue slid down the creases of his defined muscles, before wavering over to his own chest. Any response was muffled through his clenched teeth. Still he kept his hands crossed behind his head, letting his woman work her magic.

"You really think you're in charge here, how sadly mistaken you are, woman," he snickered with that devilish smirk two shades away from an evil grin.

"Says you," she laughed, leaning down to kiss that smirk off his face.

She seized his bottom lip in her teeth, biting down on it. His own tongue darted out to slide across the tops of her upper teeth, coaxing her to release him so he could claim her mouth in a firm kiss. Gloved hands slid from behind his head to bind her to him. For a time he simply probed her sweet mouth with an adventurous tongue between merged lips. Her pheromones saturated the air with their distinctive perfume irresistible to Vegeta's flared nostrils.

"Remember it well. I don't think you can forget the pleasures that I the Prince of all Saiyans, can grant you for your devotion to me," he purred, flipping her over so they lay side by side. Tangling her legs in his, he rubbed his muscular thigh between hers, causing her to gasp. Her knee brushed his desire, moving back and forth as his hands claimed the curves of exposed skin. Anxiously they removed whatever still separated them. Both sat upright on the bed. Gloved hands gripped her hips, and she slid her fingers over his to unite them as one being.

"I shouldn't let you anywhere near me after having Trunks so soon!" she gasped.

"Now how could you resist me?" he smirked. Bulma's red lips parted, and her dark lashed lids fluttered closed as she cried out his name. Their bodies joined and she felt that same tingling surging through her. It dawned on her that all the time the ki had build between them, but she was so caught up in the simple kisses and his scent to notice.

Bulma gasped opening her eyes for a moment. All around her the glow increased to encompass her flesh. Many times in the past they had both been wreathed in it, but he had placed the energy around only her. At skin depth and inside, the blue ki shielded her body from the full force of his Saiyan appetites. Realization dawned on Bulma that he had grown so strong in each time, that such energy was needed to protect her frail flesh from what he could do.

It was a force field around her, reinforcing her delicate human body normally one tenth the strength and density of his Saiyan physique. He had bottled his beautiful butterfly in a solid jar so he could preserve and love her at his full strength. Waves of energy surged around them, fluttering the curtains and shimmering the entire room with his ki. For a split second the blue hissed to a blinding hot white intensity that seared her with a residual gold radiance. The sun itself peeked through the curtains and hit her full in the face, casting them both in its golden glow.

"What was that?" she whispered, blinking at the gold radiance spilling in from outside and bathing them in its sheen.

"Mating with you as if you were a full blooded Saiyan such as me," he panted. "Now you see the other reason I must be away from you while I train? I could destroy you before I knew how to fully master the power."

"I'm sorry Vegeta I didn't know," she whispered.

"Now you understand. When next we meet I will have mastered it. And then you need not fear the proximity," he whispered. "Because you carried my brat, his ki reinforced your body. Sex at normal force was possible. But now that you are again as you were, I must restrain my urges. As in all things."

"You could have told me, you idiot," she laughed lightly, kissing him.

"Would you have listened? No," he mumbled sarcastically.

"I know you'll hate me for saying this, but I do love you, Vegeta," she whispered.

"Now you had to go and ruin it by going all sentimental!" he snickered teasingly.

"Sorry, I just had to say it. Just in case I don't get another chance to, Geta-chan," she trailed off, before burying her face in his neck. Vegeta pulled off his gloves, immersing his fingers in her silky blue hair. He picked up the strands and let them drop lazily, then scratched her scalp.

"What makes you think I won't triumph, eh? That you won't have another chance to fill my ears with your sentimental drivel?" he snorted.

"If you don't I'll bring you back and kill you myself," she sniffled.

"I know woman, I know, and for that loyalty I am eternally grateful," Vegeta said, binding her close in his arms. A lump swelled in his throat, and he suddenly realized that emptiness was filled for a moment. It terrified him even more than anything he'd felt before. He loved her and truly knew what it was. Even more shocking was that part of him didn't' care that he'd suddenly allowed himself to be weakened by love.

_"Love isn't a weakness,"_ that part of him said. _"Perhaps it isn't that sappy syrupy thing you thought it was. Maybe it's something the humans are too stupid to comprehend in all its awesome savagery." _

"Who the hell cares if it's weakness or not. I have what Kakkarot has," Vegeta murmured aloud. Mentally he added, _"And soon I'll restore the natural order of things. So the time that punk from the future returns I'll be the one laughing in his face!"_

Bulma lifted her head and glanced up, shivering at him. Liquid blue eyes met hers, a shade towards turquoise. She swallowed hard, realizing the radiant light of the setting sun had faded, and the gilded glow was not coming from outside, but in. Her fingers brushed over the bristles of his hair.

"Vegeta," she whispered.

"What, woman?" he asked.

"Look at yourself," she whispered.

"That sunlight is rather irritating! You should have closed the curtains woman," Vegeta griped, shading his eyes with his hand.

"That light. It's not coming from the sun shining through the window. It's coming from somewhere IN THIS ROOM," Bulma stammered, gazing at him in fear and wonder. Now she knew why she had been shielded by his royal blue ki. To protect her subconsciously from the metamorphosis, the Prince's own body had done so, anticipating what was to transpire. What gilded glow remained was only from the shimmering lord of light resulting from a dark prince.

Raising his hands he felt the strength humming through his body. That blue glow was no more. The royal blue ki had transmuted to something far more glorious. Sitting bold upright in bed with his woman I his lap he saw a pair of turquoise eyes and a tower of bright blonde spikes regarded him. Bulma parted herself from him, her face bright with unshed tears. "You're beautiful, you know."

"Again I have achieved it but for another reason before this," he said quietly.

"But a pure heart and calm mind was needed, wasn't it? That's what Gohan said Goku claimed," said Bulma uncomprehending. "All you ever felt was rage, frustration and desire."

"Yes, but that's what I have lived for. The desperation of becoming more than I was to claim the birthright that was always mine, Bulma," Vegeta whispered.

"How?"

"Once before I felt this way. In the depths of space when I sensed you were carrying my brat," Vegeta said. "I felt as if everything were conspiring against me, and I had no reason to fight anymore. I loathed and hated the weak flesh I was, hated the man who could not be the Prince he so proported to be. Then I understood if for a second that if I wished for it hard enough, I would achieve it. Then the revelation faded. And then suddenly I no longer hated myself. I felt proud of what I had achieved, and knew it was for a purpose far greater then my own selfish desires."

"You mean anger and desire, and pure unbridled passion?" she asked.

"The other side of Saiyan nature. The drive to be better then one already is, Bulma," said Vegeta with a slow grin. The intense self-hatred and detachment at realizing the weakness of love floated from his mind. He stared comprehending the vision before him, and understood fully how it had come to pass. Self-hatred changed into something that pushed beyond what he once was capable of, and what could be. Relief filled him, knowing that what was once a weakness was now one of his greatest strengths.

"Your hunger to be the best you can," she nodded.

"Love isn't something that I truly understood, Bulma. I think you humans are the ones that don't comprehend it. Love to a Saiyan is a state of being, a savage desire to posess and protect with every fiber of one's being. A hunger that surpasses all others. That is not love by its meager human definition, but a desire to be one with one's mate to have a purpose to exist," Vegeta said quietly.

"You're part of me," she murmured. "And I will say it again. I love you, Vegeta. Trunks and I both love you, even if you don't want to say it aloud."

"Your human concept of 'love' is not a word in my vocabulary. Rather the drive to be what I rightfully should. The best and the strongest. And you united yourself to me in that purpose. That is a Saiyan's true desire, to know that you would do anything for me, blindly," Vegeta murmured.

"Then you do… love me?"

"You are mine, body and soul. To protect, to defend and to take pride in. Not a weakness but a secret of strength. And it's for that reason I must keep my cold ruthlessness so the enemy does not take away my two greatest treasures, Bulma," Vegeta said, clutching her close. "You and the brat."

"So I'm not a weakness?"

"You're my secret weapon, Bulma, you and the brat. My reason for continuing this fight. But keep that close to yourself in confidence. Let no one guess the secret of my power. Lest my enemies destroy everything that holds any meaning. Outside of these walls, these words must NOT be uttered, do you understand, Bulma?" he said.

"Your pride?" she asked.

"It is necessary. I request that you honor this command for your own safety as well as that of Trunks. I may appear uncaring to your 'friends' towards you, but that does not diminish my duty to protect what is mine. Know in your mind and body the truth, for my actions are what matters, not paltry foolish words," Vegeta said.

"I'll do it, because I know why, Vegeta, and I don't want to lose you. Neither does Trunks," she nodded, kissing him lightly before the gilt faded and he was again himself. Vegeta nodded, seeing comprehension in her eyes. He knew he would remain the rest of the night, and leave first thing that morning. He had to recapture that moment of transformation and make it last long enough so that he would be the strongest of all. So that his woman and son would see another day in the coming years.


	20. Setting the Prince Free?

**A Taste of Heat**

By Trynia Merin aka Starbearertm

_**Setting the Prince Free**_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z. I don't own Vegeta, Bulma or Baby Trunks sadly. Akira Toriyama does, and Funimation brings us these great cartoons! I wish I did, but I only can claim this story as a work of fanfiction from my overactive imagination. Don't sue me! I hope to present a 'realistic' portrayal of the struggle not only Vegeta but Bulma has with this whole change in relationship. If things seem OOC, then it's just my vain attempts to delve into their minds._

Bear with me here. I hope this will all make sense in a chapter or 2!

* * *

Bulma knew she was in trouble since she first saw him change to Super Saiyan. He would bask in the radiance of his achievement, and she could just see him failing to recapture the moment during training. She couldn't risk him turning Trunks into the reason for failure. Perhaps he could blame her, but if he risked blaming an innocent boy for his failure, she couldn't tolerate the anger that would generate. Nothing would be worth that.

His strong hands sheathed in white gloves that she longed to see remained untouched by any skin now. What had been familiar territory in her dreams was in reality as unknown to her as the topography of earth's now destroyed moon. It remained an elusive memory that swam before her waking eyes in that twilight state. Although they had touched each other physically, she knew there would be parts of his soul that were forever denied her. He wasn't ready to stay with her forever, like she had hoped. Although she knew that he had a duty to train for excellence, she still wished she could be part of it. Nevertheless she knew her Prince too well. Gut instinct warned Bulma that he would possibly regret opening up to her in a moment of weakness as he struggled to process emotions that his icy heart had no hope of comprehending. In their last lovemaking she could feel the conflict within.

Now she had shared the better part of her last year with him, forced into a new association that both were coming to terms with. Was he lover, husband, or sex partner? Bulma still wasn't sure. In the depths of darkness she heard a piercing baby's cry. Slowly she blinked sleep and rubbed its evidence from her eyes before fighting her way out of the covers. Her hand fell across the empty space next to her. Was it a dream or was she really just a single mother?

"I will be gone till they show up, and not before," echoed his words in her ear from a time before now. It was the day after he had first ascended.

If Bulma closed her eyes she could still feel the tension crackling between them that early morning. The baby's cries had kept her awake for the past hour while Vegeta had changed into a fresh suit of armor and spandex. As she struggled to quiet the baby his mood had soured with each passing minute.

"Can't you keep that brat quiet?" Vegeta complained, from before the three sided mirror near their dresser.

"Excuse me, but our son's HUNGRY!" Bulma shot back. She walked back and forth with a fussy Trunks, who had not let her sleep a wink since Vegeta had risen from the bed. Finally she marched over to the changing table once her finger confirmed the cause. Vegeta smelled the scent of soiled diapers, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

"Foul smelling brat," he muttered. "Do you have to make such a stink?"

"It's not his fault, jerk! Babies poo just like we do!" she cursed, holding Trunks by his ankles. She plopped him onto the new diaper, then shot powder everywhere.

"All that brat does is eat, sleep, s hit and cry! Why if he were a full blooded Saiyan babe he'd be ready to fight in just under a year. Must you persist in raising him solely when you can hire any number of slaves to…" Vegeta barked.

"Throw this away will you?" Bulma interrupted, thrusting a nasty smelling bundle.

"Hell no! I do NOT dispose of soiled DIAPERS! It's beneath me!" Vegeta exploded, backing away from the extended hand holding the offensive item as if it were a deadly enemy.

"FINE your royal WHYNESS," she snapped, hurling the diaper across the room. It crashed into the nearby bin with a solid thump.

Angrily Vegeta glared at Trunks irritated that his early morning escape was ruined. "Traitorous whelp," he spat towards the boy. "You couldn't shut up long enough! You just HAD to wake your mother!"

"Excuse me, what did you just say to him?" Bulma snapped, struggling to finish snapping Trunks little blue onsie again around his flailing legs.

"That brat won't shut the hell up! Must we have it in the next room? You ask me why I must leave, and yet you are stupid enough not to see that whelp keeps YOU awake!" Vegeta laughed, throwing up gloved hands as he rolled his eyes.

"He's a BABY, Vegeta! Cut him some slack!" Bulma yelled.

"You're just as loud as HE is, Bulma!" Vegeta glared at her. He marched towards the door, fully intent on leaving.

"Where do you think you're going, mister Prince of the Saiyans?" Bulma demanded. She snatched Trunks off the changing table, and he grabbed two fistfuls of her hair in his small hands.

"I have to leave, Bulma! You knew I made my intentions clear! I must complete my training. I've wasted enough time coddling you and the brat!" Vegeta retorted.

"Now WAIT, you can't just LEAVE!"

"I can and I am, Bulma. You will remain here and care for the boy while I am gone. And while I'm battling the tin cans you are NOT to disturb me or come anywhere NEAR me with the brat, got it?"

"EXCUSE the hell me?" Bulma blinked.

"Must I repeat myself? Are you deaf as well as stupid, Bulma?" Vegeta snapped impatiently. He marched towards her, his eyes blazing like lit coals with frustration.

"Don't start with me, Vegeta!" she warned, waggling her finger at him while holding Trunks with the other. Back and forth the blue eyes flickered from mother to father.

"I refuse to be detained any longer. If I miss the launch window it's YOUR Fault!" he said.

"LAUNCH, excuse me WHAT did you say?" Bulma blinked in disbelief.

"I'm taking off in less then an hour," Vegeta said, tugging his gloves on more tightly.

"What, you're going into SPACE again, but why?" she gasped, rushing quickly around to block his way towards the door to their suite.

"Get out of my way, Bulma, I've no time for your foolish female games!" Vegeta snorted. Wind seemed to blast her full in the face as he vanished in a blur. A second later and he stood by the open window, glaring at her.

"He needs his father close, not traipsing around OUTER SPACE! Why can't you train on EARTH? Or are we too WEAK for you?" she shouted towards him, stumbling as she rushed forwards. A second later she tripped, falling headlong before Vegeta zipped forwards to catch her.

"Let me train, Bulma. You can't be so selfish to stand in the way of my goal!" Vegeta growled.

"Who's being selfish!" she snapped at him turning away as she hugged Trunks even more tightly. Small hands seized fistfuls of her hair, pulling as Trunks began to sniffle.

"Perhaps I was correct in thinking that you are a distraction. Because this is exactly what I knew would happen. Your stupid human female hormones trying to fuck with my mind! I won't tolerate head games!"

"WAAAHHHH!" Trunks began to cry.

"Don't cry sweetie, your dad's being an ass," Bulma cooed, rocking him in her arms to try and quiet him.

"You DARE bother me with such sentimental drivel? Did we not discuss this?" Vegeta growled, deeply in his throat. "I cannot allow you and the boy to become a liability. Damn you, Bulma, why are you being so foolish?"

"You bastard, you just HAVE to jump at the chance to leave!" Bulma snapped.

"My son will be protected. If you happen to be there so be it. But don't expect me to come running if you are foolish enough to put yourself at risk. If you're willing to jeopardize my one chance to prove my… supremacy, you'll obviously be idiotic enough to cross the path of danger."

Bulma's temperature rose to the boiling point, her blue eyes blazing with the same intensity as his. "I can't believe you're saying I'm doing that? What if something happens to me and him while you're gone?"

"If you would follow my commands you wouldn't dare question me! If you are trying to anger me, you're succeeding in doing so. What do you hope to gain from this emotional outburst, eh? Save to remind me why human emotions are weak?" he laughed harshly.

"You can't get RID of us fast enough! That proves that you're kissing your WEAKNESS goodbye!" she snapped back at him.

"So that's how it is, Bulma? You disappoint me. I thought you comprehended the nature of things. But as always you show me how limited your human intelligence truly is!" Vegeta scoffed, his brow knitting with fury.

"How do I know you'll come back?" she snapped. Vegeta's dark eyes widened at the gall of Bulma to accuse him of such things.

"How DARE you question my honor as a Prince and a warrior! Such slander would get you KILLED were this Vegetasei!" he gasped, his jaw dropping open.

Bulma's next words were little more then a snarl as she said, "Well just GO! WE don't need you, Vegeta! Go be the ruthless Saiyan Prince. Forget that we exist because we're the one thing holding you back from being the strongest!"

"Obviously you have decided that you are not worthy of the role for which I have given you. Since you fail to comprehend, my protection is withdrawn. Save in ensuring that my heir survives, any fool action that places you in deliberate danger will not be MY responsibility!" Vegeta snarled.

"Just leave, you ass," she said. "The robots aren't going to wait."

"I will then, Bulma, if that's what you say," he stared at her with a deepening frown. "But don't blame me for this mindfuck!"

"Who's fucking with who's mind, huh, Princey?" she yelled. "Just GO!"

"I will then, but not because you tell me. Nobody orders the Prince. I go where I want to, and when I want to!" he huffed. A sudden blaze of blue energy blinded her. By the time it faded, the curtains flapped in the breeze of the blast of wind generated by his departure. From behind the distant domes peeking through the window a thin band of blood red spread from the encroaching dawn.

"I'm sorry Vegeta," she whispered suddenly.

Bulma dropped to her knees, still rocking Trunks. She forced back tears, not wanting to cry because she could still hear his reprimand. Unfortunately her plan had worked too well. Would he realize that she had done what she did to ensure that he would succeed? The night before when their souls had touched she'd read the struggle within her Prince. Two sides warred, the desire to fulfil his role as husband and protector, and the burning need to prove he was the strongest. Literally the battle consumed him, reducing him to a driving ache that made her sick.

"You only would hate us in time. If we held you back from your goal you'd resent us. Far better you leave and get this out of your system then loathe us later," she said. "I refuse to be blamed for being the reason you don't defeat those damn androids."

What she had done was out of fear but she tried to convince herself it was out of love. That time worn cliché of 'if you love something let it go…' was a feeble excuse. Then and there she realized she was just as guilty as putting up walls as he was. Yet her mind struggled to convince herself that it was for the best. In time he would invent a reason to leave regardless. Far better in the long run that she push him away so he could focus all his energies on becoming the strongest.

* * *

'It's what you wanted, Vegeta,' she whispered. Then her mind drifted back to the present. Red digital numbers flickered to display the time: 4:35 am. Through the blinds the orange haze of streetlights still cast faint shadows in the dim room.

The loud cry continued to split the silence. Urgently she stumbled to her feet, not bothering to wrap herself in a bathrobe. A few steps carried her into the nursery immediately to the left of her bedroom. Face bright red, her son pumped little fists and kicked up the blanket as he hollered for food. The cry tore at her motherly instincts with a mingle of pride and concern. He was her son. Her baby boy, the man of her life.

"Shh, it's okay Trunks sweetie… Mommy's here… man you're as loud as your mommy," she found herself cooing. Fear had given way to the instinct of meeting his every need. For without her he was alone in the world. Not truthfully, because of his Nana and Pops, but emotionally. From the time she was the age of her little man, to her teens there were nannies and arms to hold her. Unfortunately there were hardly any times she could recall her mother and father holding her except when it was most needed.

"Wow, you're really hungry, aren't you?" she commented, reaching down to boost her baby up out of his crib. He continued to holler despite her resting him on her shoulder and rocking him. A quick finger in the diaper just like one of her best friends had mentioned told her his diaper was wet. Practiced motions like one of her bots carried her through the ritual of setting him down on the changing table and breathing through her nose.

"I know, I know… hang on there, little guy, I know it sucks being wet," she mumbled, ripping open the snaps of his onesie. Fortunately the diaper was wet, devoid of the disgusting contents that hardly phased her. After the first hundred changes she grew an ironclad stomach. In years past the mere sight of such bodily functions grossed her out, but it was either get used to it, or leave the change to someone else.

"I don't want him not knowing who Mamma is," she had yelled at her parents when they insisted on a Nanny. "He's MY son."

That sent her Father and Mother out of the room with a loud series of shouts. She wanted to be with him. Her little man, the one who would never leave her. From that first moment she clutched him she knew she loved him. Unlike other moms she had not suffered the post partum depression. Looking into those eyes the identical shade of hers was worth the late night changes. Just seeing the expressions on his face or the way in which he regarded her with wonder pushed all other concerns but the immediate now from her. Running the world's largest company mattered little when it came to changing her baby's diaper.

Running Capsule as Vice President went on the back burner. Mommy Bulma insisted on it. Her father and mother gave no argument for their daughter wanting to take on the task of mommy full time. Bulma stumbled over to the rocking chair and lowered herself with a grunt. She reached down to unfasten her button up nightgown for what he most needed. A quick clamping of his teeth on her breast and she leaned back with a sigh of relief to hear his cry gone. Clutching her baby in her arms she felt the warmth of his little strong body seeping into hers. The delicate scent of baby Trunks filled her nostrils, mingled with the plastic fresh scent of a clean diaper, and baby powder. His head was still partly soft as she fingered the small peachfuzz of violet hair curling over his scalp. His hair had been thick, but much of it had lightened up since then.

"My greatest invention," she chuckled. Two blue eyes blinked up at her intently around the curve of her breast. Trunks glanced up at her as he ate that late night snack. Every two hours he drew from her, and she felt the tingling of the blue comfort through them. HE drained no energy form her, rather he gave back ten times whatever attention. He didn't demand unrealistic things. Only her love and full attention.

How could eyes so young hold love, she wondered? Despite his crying, Trunks had a calming affect on her when he sat quietly and looked up at her with his bottomless sapphire eyes. His young cherubic face would split with a true smile and a cooing when she bounced him sometimes. Bulma sat for a long time slowly rocking and letting him nurse, till she realized his need was done. Carefully she removed him and fastened her gown again. Holding him close to her breast she got up and wandered towards the bed. That empty place weighted heavily on her mind.

"Well little guy, you wanna sleep next to Mamma tonight?" she asked quietly. Doctors often said a woman shouldn't keep a baby in bed next to them, but something told her it would be very difficult to hurt a half Saiyan baby. Trunks was made of far sterner stuff, and the action of her rolling on him would hardly hurt him.

She scooted into the exact middle of the bed, and then lay on her side. Making a warm nest for her baby, she wrapped him in her arms so his head and shoulders rested on her chest. Burying her face against his warm smooth cheek she inhaled his scent. A small fist grabbed a handful of her blue hair and clung tightly. He let out a small sigh and curled up next to his mother in the darkness of early morning. With her little man beside her she soon found sleep again.

* * *


	21. Visitation Day 1

**A Taste of Heat**

By Trynia Merin aka Starbearertm

**_Visitation Day_**

_Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z. I don't own Vegeta, Bulma or Baby Trunks sadly. Akira Toriyama does, and Funimation brings us these great cartoons! I wish I did, but I only can claim this story as a work of fanfiction from my overactive imagination. Don't sue me! I hope to present a 'realistic' portrayal of the struggle not only Vegeta but Bulma has with this whole change in relationship. If things seem OOC, then it's just my vain attempts to delve into their minds. _Bear with me here. I hope this will all make sense in a chapter or 2!

* * *

"How long has your daddy been gone, hmm?" Bulma asked as she carried Trunks downstairs. Dressed in a powder blue onesie and a black cap with small 'horns', the little Trunks let out a giggling shriek as Bulma jostled him on her hip playfully.

"Oh how's my little princess and her little prince?" asked Bunny as Bulma carried her son into the breakfast nook of the huge kitchen. Momentarily Bulma frowned at the word.

From behind his paper, Dr. Briefs grumbled, "Dear, you know she hates that!"

"Well he IS a little prince. He's MY prince, right?" said Bulma, lifting her son and blowing a raspberry on his tummy. Another shriek and laugh from him canceled anyone's response. She sat down at her usual place, holding Trunks on her knee.

"Let me take him dear," said Bunny.

"No, I think he wants to sit with the rest of the family, don't you Trunks sweetie?" Bulma cooed. Feelings she was afraid would never surface came so easily. Knowing how to be a mom seemed almost inbred. Like coaxing a new machine to life. Yet this was truly hers. Nobody could dispute he was her boy.

"You're spoiling that boy rotten," said Dr. Briefs. He felt Scratch rub against his heels, then leaned down to pick up his black cat. It settled comfortably across his shoulders with a soft mew and an unimpressed yawn.

"So what? He's MY boy to spoil, aren't you, Trunksy-wunksy," she laughed, ignoring her father. "Besides you spoiled ME rotten."

"I still think you should look into a nanny," said Dr. Briefs. Absently he scratched his cat's chin as it bumped against its master's ear. A slight purring rumbled around his head, calming him with its familiar drone. Somehow it was always easier to cogitate with the purr of Scratch echoing in his ears like a mantra. Lately Scratch did double duty as a method of calming the aged scientist when dealing with her ideas of parenting.

"Dad, knock it off. I'm NOT working for six months and that's FINAL," she growled at him, hugging Trunks possessively to her.

"Honey, we have lots of working mothers," Dr. Briefs said, trying another tack.

Unfortunately Bulma's temper flared to boiling point. It became entirely clear this was her chance to make a statement. Protectively she settled Trunks to straddle her hip. Blue eyes the same shade as his mother's fixed Dr. Briefs in an intense stare. Baby Trunks glimpsed up to see his mother's intense frown, and instantly copied it. Angrily Bulma said, "Maybe dumping me on a nanny worked for you, but he's MY son, and I'm NOT abandoning him."

To this Dr. Briefs blinked. His ears still didn't register what she said till a second later. Then he drew in a deep sigh. "Nobody says you would be, dear. But remember your responsibility…"

"Oh please! Save it dad," said Bulma acidly. Slowly she rocked back and forth, swinging Trunks on her hips with one hand around his back, and then other clasped before her.

"But Princess…" Dr. Briefs persisted.

"You listen to your Gramps Trunksy? He's all cranky! Cause he wants mommy to do things HIS way. Well you know what, I love spending time with my little man, huh?" Bulma cooed, turning her full attention to her boy. She strode over to the table and sat down at her usual place. Instead of putting Trunks in the expensive high chair she set him on her knee so he could peer over the table at her breakfast.

"Honey I'm TRYING to talk to you!" Dr. Briefs grumbled, marching over to glare at his daughter.

"So am I, Dad. Read my lips. Trunks is my number one priority. And he IS the heir to the company," Bulma answered firmly. She gently unbuttoned her shirt, then discretely shifted Trunks so he could nurse at her breast. Both Dr. and Mrs. Briefs blinked at the natural scene, wondering what on earth had possessed their daughter.

"She's got a point dear. Who could resist spending time with this handsome angel?" Bunny asked, moving over and setting a cup of coffee by Bulma's elbow.

"Whatever you say Princess," sighed Dr. Briefs, realizing that his daughter was not going to stray from her determination.

"You've got enough VP's to run things. And besides, Trunks is the future of Capsule. And I want my little man to grow up knowing he's loved," she said pointedly. Trunks looked up at his frowning Grandpa out of the corner of his bright blue eyes. A frown wrinkled his forehead as if he had greater comprehension of the whole conversation. Bulma removed him from her breast to burp him.

"He is," said Bunny, leaning down to kiss her grandson after he was done. "You can't deny that."

"Fine, I suppose there's no convincing you otherwise, about a nanny," sighed Dr. Briefs. Bulma returned Trunks to finish his meal in full view of her grandparents. Both mother and daughter seemed lost in their own world at that moment. She nodded, focussing right on the bundle in her arms during the uncomfortable silence. Bunny shook her head at her scowling husband, refreshing his coffee. Sullenly Dr. Briefs dug into the plate of waffles and maple syrup she placed before him when he realized his daughter had made her point. For the next fifteen minutes she attended to nursing Trunks as her parents ate their breakfast. Bunny couldn't help but see how at peace Bulma seemed with the baby in her arms. From day one Trunks seemed to be her whole existence. Yet wasn't that how it should be, with a mother and her child, Bunny thought.

"You're such a natural with him, dear," Mrs. Briefs observed, sitting down next to Bulma. She picked at her fruit salad, and smiled endearingly at her daughter with pride.

"Thanks Mom. Don't worry, you'll get your turn. I just want Trunks to know who Mommy is," Bulma whispered.

"I know dear," Mrs. Briefs nodded, with a look of regret on her face. "I suppose there's no convincing SOME people that old dogs can learn new tricks."

"Humph," Dr. Briefs mumbled, rustling the morning science journal. He erected it like a screen to shield himself from his wife and daughter's glares. Bulma rolled her eyes then removed Trunks to burp him again.

"You know dear, you always DO complain about the number of your lady employees who wished they were home with their babies. You always HATED it when they asked for 26 weeks instead of 12 for maternity leave?" Bunny said. She winked at Bulma who widened her eyes.

Only a slight rustle answered them while Dr. Briefs turned a page. Nodding towards Bulma, she waited for her daughter to pick up on the hint. Bulma was pleased her mother wasn't always as dizzy as she made out to be. Clearing her throat Bulma said in a louder tone of voice, "Yeah mom, you're right. I think we should let some of our employees be able to bring their babies to work," said Bulma.

"Humph, babies in the labs, what will they think of next? Atomic playpens?" Dr. Briefs mumbled.

"Just because your nannybot didn't work there's no need to be testy, darling," Mrs. Briefs sniffed at him.

"They could telecommute. And I can still run that project and look after Trunksy here at the same time. And I can direct the lab workers by videoscreen from here," Bulma added. To this Dr. Briefs lowered his paper the slightest bit. He peered overtop to meet his daughter's gaze. Bunny flashed Bulma the victory sign under the table.

"All right, we'll do it your way, Princess," said Dr. Briefs. "I suppose I am pushing you too hard. I suppose that five more years won't hurt."

Suddenly the phone jangled. Bunny moved over to pick it up. "Hello? Yes, she's here…"

She glanced over at Bulma. "Who is it, Mom?" asked Bulma, holding Trunks on her lap.

"Security says we have a visitor. Seems your little friend Yamcha's brought some belated baby shower gifts…" said Mrs. Briefs.

"I didn't HAVE a baby shower," Bulma rolled her eyes. "That's the lamest tradition. Okay, let him in. Tell them I'll meet him downstairs in the parlor."

Bulma had dressed a half-hour later, and changed Trunks yet again. She strode into the room with her baby boy on her hip. A pile of gifts lay around the feet of the handsome young friend that she had seen march out of the door weeks before. It had been at least four months since he had even called her, and they had patched up things to the level of friendship.

"Bulma, babe, you look good," Yamcha said with a smile, leaping up to see her. His muscular form was clad in a butter yellow suit with white pullover sweater underneath. To her surprise his hair was cropped short and spiky on top.

"What did you do to your hair?" she asked with a giggle. "You look like a jarhead!"

"You like it?" he chuckled. "Hey there little guy! You're a handsome dude!"

Trunks glanced over at Yamcha, blinking. He reached out his arms towards the boy, to Bulma's surprise. "This is Trunks," she said.

"Wow, he's a lady-killer already, just like his grampa," laughed Yamcha. "Hey there! It's your Uncle Yamcha! Can I hold him?"

"Sure… if you want to…" said Bulma holding her son out. Trunks quickly snapped his head around as she tentatively handed him to Yamcha. With a huge grin her ex boyfriend settled her son into his arms with surprised ease. He boosted Trunks up and held him up.

"Hey sport, you wanna fly?" he chuckled, making a funny face. Trunks squealed with a surpassing laugh as Yamcha swung him in small arcs.

"What's all this stuff?" she asked, frowning. She prodded one brightly wrapped package with the toe of her house slipper. Duckies and birdies always annoyed the heck out of her. Especially since she enjoyed decorating Trunks bedroom with pictures of robots and space ships rather then cutsy animals.

"You didn't tell me when the baby shower was!" Yamcha pouted. "Sport, your mamma here forgot to tell Uncle Yamcha you were even here! Bad girl!"

"I hate baby showers, they're so stupid!" Bulma glared at him. Despite her annoyance, she was glad to see him. Especially since he seemed so COMFORTABLE holding her son. Trunks giggled and imitated the strange faces her friend was making as he babbled in a high pitched voice.

"Oho what a sourpuss! Your mommy's a sourpuss kid!" Yamcha pouted. "You gotta tell her to lighten up! Especially when Uncle Yamcha's got some cool stuff!"

"Knock it off you dork," Bulma giggled, realizing how silly he looked. "Okay, it's good to see you, but I didn't expect you to even WANT to show up after…"

"I wanted to see the kiddo, and see if his mommy was still as beautiful as she was before," Yamcha said innocently. He settled Trunks against his hip, and the baby didn't even flinch. Blue eyes glanced up at Yamcha with a probing frown.

"Flatterer. But it won't get you zip," said Bulma with a sigh. "I know all your cheap moves."

"I got all new cheap moves," he joked. "KIDDING!"

"Jerk," said Bulma as she saw him gently rocking Trunks. It hardly seemed fair, and she swallowed the lump in her throat.

"He's handsome all right. You do good work. Your mommy's one heck of an inventor, sport," Yamcha grinned at Trunks.

"Since when did YOU get so comfy with kids, huh?" she asked.

"I love kids," Yamcha said. "Cause you're always telling me I'll never grow up, remember?"

"Who's the bigger kid, you or Trunksy?" Bulma stuck her tongue out at him as she reached for Trunks. Yamcha reluctantly passed him back, and she sat down. A second later he lowered himself into the plush sofa next to her.

"Ouch, babe," Yamcha chuckled. "So, you okay? Goku and Piccolo said you'd had your baby, and I wanted to see him, and you. Can you blame me? I mean… well… I still care about you you know. Even though… you know… your with him…"

"I am glad you're here," she said quietly.

"Is he off training?" Yamcha asked, glancing around. Trunks glanced from Bulma to Yamcha with wide blue eyes.

"Yes, as a matter of fact. He left two months ago," said Bulma. "He's in space."

"Was he here when…"

"Yes. But could we please… talk about something else?" Bulma asked. "Like why you're here? Cause if you think…"

"I want to be friends, babe," said Yamcha quietly. "Cause I miss you. And I figured you could use a friend. Nothing more. No tricks."

"I could use a friend," she said softly, feeling her stomach aching next to the hole in her heart. She fought back tears and put up the veneer of the indestructible Capsule Princess with a fake smile.

"Good. Cause I'm here for you," Yamcha said. "Whatever way you need."

"Why? I mean considering the last time…" Bulma said quietly. She stared at an invisible ink stain somewhere on the wall away from Yamcha's face.

"Cause I've known you too long not to care," said Yamcha. "And I wanna be part of your life in some way. If it's okay. And I wanted to apologize for trying to push my way into something that you weren't ready for."

Suspiciously Bulma narrowed her eyes and asked, "What's that mean?"

"I did a lot of thinking. I missed you, and I realized we both needed a break," he said.

No sooner did the words come out then Bulma felt her stomach tying in knots. It sank to her toes along with her good mood. There went a nice day curdling like sour milk thanks to him. Was she never to be rid of him, or was she making a huge mistake on what could have been. Anger mingled with resentment and a dash of regret. She bit her lip so hard she felt blood forming inside her cheek. All she could do was stammer, "I can't even THINK of that… I mean you can't mean…"

Yamcha rose from his chair, and said down next to her. His hands rested on her shoulders reassuringly. She clutched Trunks like a teddy bear to her, feeling her son curl up in her arms. Blue eyes glared up at Yamcha accusingly, as if the baby could sense the source of his mother's angst. At that moment Yamcha retreated slightly at the frown the child cast him. Was it his imagination or was he sensing the kid was telling him to back off in his own way? Nervously he laughed. He settled for nudging his thigh against Bulma's, keeping his hands to himself. Baby Trunks glanced up at his mother again, still frowning because his mother was so distraught.

"Bulma, it's not what you think. I don't feel sorry for you," he said quietly. "I only care about you. I still… I still love you, you know. Take it for whatever it means."

"Yamcha, that doesn't help," she said softly. Trunks began to fuss and whimper, grabbing hold of her hair. She rocked him as he opened his mouth and started to cry. Immediately she rose from sitting next to Yamcha, and began to pace around with Trunks in her arms. Back and forth she rocked him, patting his back and trying to shush him. One finger thrust in his diaper showed it was still dry, and he had just eaten not an hour ago.

"Bulma… please, hear me out!" Yamcha said.

"Shh! Quiet down!" Bulma whirled on him.

"Sorry!" Yamcha held up his hands. He started to get up, but Bulma whirled on him, holding Trunks with one hand. The other she held before her with the palm facing Yamcha.

Her voice was tinged with bitterness when she said, "How can you just waltz in here and expect me to accept your 'forgiveness' because I don't want it!"

"I'm not asking you to accept anything, except my friendship," said Yamcha. "If you want me gone, I'll leave now. But I don't want to be shut out of your life forever. Please. Just sit down and let's talk about this rationally okay?"

He patted the place next to him. Through the blurr of tears unshed Bulma, asked, "Friends? Are you… are you serious?"

Yamcha nodded with a smile, saying, "Friends? I'm not gonna push it. "

Bulma lowered herself to sit down again. She settled Trunks on her lap, curling her arms around him to hold him on his back. He curled against her body, looking up at his hands tugging on his mom's bright blue hair. Yamcha reached over to lightly caress her shoulder. Quietly he whispered, "I mean I'd lie if I said I didn't want more, but you don't need that right now. And if I can't be Daddy, I can be Uncle Yamcha, can't I?"

"Yes, you can," she said with a small smile. "I guess it's okay."

"Let's just clear away the slate, Bulma. Friends, okay?" he asked. "I won't push."

"Friends is fine," she said firmly.

"You look like you're in serious need of a hug though," he said. Bulma felt her reserve melt, and accepted his arms around her. Resting her face on his shoulder she thought how strangely unfair this all was. How dare he try and offer her something she didn't want or deserve. Trunks whimpered a bit, and they parted after a moment.

"Sorry, I'm sorry…" he gasped.

"It's okay," she said quietly, holding her baby close. "I… I…"

"You miss him, don't you?" Yamcha asked, stroking her shoulder.

"I do. I love him," Bulma whispered. "And he's gone. And I'm not sure if I want to kill him or jump him when he comes back."

"Man, that's a bummer," said Yamcha. "If you want me to leave I'll go."

"No, stay," she said, grabbing his hand as he tried to rise. "You gotta show me what all this crap is that you've brought!"

"Okay!" Yamcha nodded, rubbing his hands together. "What first?"

* * *


	22. Where's Daddy?

**A Taste of Heat**

By Trynia Merin aka Starbearertm

**_Visitation Day II_**

_Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z. I don't own Vegeta, Bulma or Baby Trunks sadly. Akira Toriyama does, and Funimation brings us these great cartoons! I wish I did, but I only can claim this story as a work of fanfiction from my overactive imagination. Don't sue me! I hope to present a 'realistic' portrayal of the struggle not only Vegeta but Bulma has with this whole change in relationship. If things seem OOC, then it's just my vain attempts to delve into their minds. _Bear with me here. I hope this will all make sense in a chapter or 2!

* * *

Hours later, Bulma walked back and forth with a howling baby in her arms. Yet as soon as Trunks would settle down, he would suddenly grow cranky. Yamcha was being a good sport she could tell, but her temper was starting to fray to the breaking point. 

"I'm sorry Yamcha I don't know why he's so cranky. Usually he's pretty quiet," Bulma apologized.

"Hey, no problem," Yamcha shrugged. "I guess I don't mind kids carrying on. You've never seen how sore a loser Krillen can be at a poker game!"

He paced with Trunks pumping his fists and howling, struggling to at least let the baby give him a chance. "I know, he needs to be burped a bit more," Yamcha said. He turned Trunks to rest his head on his shoulder then patted his back.

Something warm and smelly dribbled on the shoulder of Yamcha's jacket. He wrinkled his nose and chuckled awkwardly, "Oh man, I think he spit-up."

"Give him here. I'm so sorry!" Bulma groaned. "You forgot to use the diaper or the receiving blanket."

"Hey it's wash and wear, no big deal," Yamcha chuckled, handing Trunks back. Face flushed red, Trunks continued to howl even in his mother's arms.

"Baby please, shush! Please!" Bulma groaned, patting his back. She felt frustration shredding her nerves even more because she felt she had something to prove to her ex boyfriend standing concerned over her.

"You want me to go get him a bottle or something?" Yamcha asked.

"Shit, I forgot he needs to go down for his nap," Bulma mumbled.

"I can…"

"No I'd better do it. I think Mom has some club soda in the kitchen which should get out that stain," said Bulma.

"I know the way, B," Yamcha said. "I'll just um… go take care of this while you put him down ok?"

"Yes. I'm SO sorry," Bulma grumbled, glaring at her wailing son for a moment. She marched out of the parlor, leaving half-opened gifts and bits of paper lying about. Strangely Trunks seemed more interested in chewing on the colorful paper and ribbons then seeing the toys inside. Yamcha cheerfully waltzed into the kitchen, giving Bulma a reassuring smile.

Upstairs she rushed, holding her still fussing infant. She moved into the nursery, and plopped him down on the changing table. With practiced breathing through her nose she checked his diaper and then set about peeling off his clothes so she could change him. A few minutes later and the diaper were all right. She found a new clean set of clothes to dress him in, then attempted to rock him in the chair. It took the better part of an hour to try and quiet him so she could finally try putting him in the crib.

Trunks raised his arms and howled. Bulma groaned, shaking her head as she paced. "C'mon guy, give your mommy a break! I've got company! You've got to sleep in the crib sometime!"

"Mamamammam!" Trunks wailed, his fists raised.

"You said Mamma…" she whispered. It struck her as odd that he was speaking so soon.

"Mammamammamahaaaahh!" Trunks sobbed.

Sighing, Bulma realized there was only one solution. She picked him up and carried him towards the large double bed. Lying down, she rested him at her side, and decided a nap along with him wouldn't be a bad idea. Yamcha would just have to deal. Curling up with his mother, Trunks at last shushed long enough so Bulma's ears could rest.

Curtains flapped in the breeze. Trunks opened his eyes and blinked, giving a small whimper. His mother snored soundly, curled up around him with a bit of drool dripping out of her mouth. He turned his small head to peer with narrowed eyes towards the open window, feeling the breeze quicken. A small squeal escaped his lips and he turned over to face the window more fully.

It opened out onto a balcony. For some reason Bulma always kept her windows open at night. It baffled her parents. She never cared to do so before, so it seemed strange for her to prefer it now that she had a baby. Yet the security system would prevent any intruders from entering. Distant noises of West City echoed in the background. Bulma mumbled, not waking as her son froze still and peered with blue eyes expectantly as if waiting for someone.

A distant whoosh of air buffeted the curtains. Trunks gurgled, his arms held out before him. A distant speck increased in size and shape, slowly blowing up into a figure of a being. Male or female was not apparent but Trunks did not cry. He simply frowned and stared till the figure touched lightly down with booted feet on the balcony. Wriggling, Trunks slid out of his mother's arms. He dragged himself on his arms, scooting with frustrated grunts. Whatever it was he wanted to be outside with it.

With a clunk Trunks tumbled off the bed. Instead of crying, he blinked up in anger at the object. He snorted, giving it a slight kick. The whole bed vibrated, but Bulma did not wake. She mumbled and turned over, still sleeping soundly. Whimpering, Trunks pulled himself and inched towards the open door of the porch, seeing the movement of a male shape pacing outside. Each pull with his arms brought him closer and closer to the open door, and the windows keeping him from what he most wanted to investigate.

The shape snapped around, facing the open sliding door. Trunks grunted and fussed as he crawled and scooted with the restricting onesie. It didn't take long for him to reach the gap, and wriggle through it. White boots gleamed with gold toes just before the baby crawling towards them. Peering up with blue eyes, Trunks let out a giggle and raised his hands to the dark eyes peering down at him.

"what the hell are YOU doing out here, brat?" Vegeta grunted in amazement to see the boy crawling at such a young age.

"Dadadadada!" Trunks chirped, grabbing one of Vegeta's toes with his hand. He wrapped his hand around the other boot, and tried to pull himself up by grabbing the spandex and cuffs of Vegeta's boot. Vegeta remained riveted to the spot, gazing down at the action. Amusement covered his harsh angular features.

"HAHH!" Trunks blurted out, raising his hands up and sitting up on his own. Blue eyes gleamed in the sunlight, a large smile turned up to his father standing over him.

"Son of a bitch. I thought babies were weak creatures who couldn't move. How did you get out of here without your mother knowing?" Vegeta mumbled. He did not reach down to pick up the boy, but watched Trunks grabbing at the spandex to try and stand up.

"Dadadadada!" Trunks laughed, grabbing Vegeta's pantleg. His fingers wrapped around the flexible cloth, and he shoved down with small feet trying to stand. Instead he landed smack on his bottom, and snorted.

"Overambitious are we, brat?" Vegeta smirked. His armor was smudged and battered, and he stood with a smirk of triumph replacing the concern on his face. Somehow the baby had sensed he was coming and moved to greet him with no one else knowing.

"Dada!" Trunks repeated.

"What?" Vegeta asked down at him. "Thought I wouldn't come back to check up on you!"

Trunks pounded on Vegeta's thigh with his other fist. "Dadadadad!" he grunted.

Vegeta exhaled at the force in the small fist. It tickled slightly but he could sense the buildup of ki flickering in the baby's frame. His eyes widened in surprise to sense Trunks ki rising to a level that matched that of a Saiyan child. Of course Saiyan babies could crawl at half the age of a human one, and Trunks just showed his theory of the boy being a half-breed weakling had gone out the window. Was Gohan this strong at this age, Vegeta wondered. A small brown tail whapped against Vegeta's boot, and curled tightly around it as Trunks continued to babble.

"Stubborn thing you are. I'm not dissapointed," Vegeta laughed. He finally leaned down on his haunches to take a better look at the boy. The young brow furled into a scowl and glared at him impatiently. Vegeta was amused at the expression that matched the one he must have been giving the baby that moment.

"Dada!" Trunks said distinctly, thumping Vegeta's knee. "Uhhh!"

"Be quiet or you'll wake your mother, boy," Vegeta hissed for silence. "So let's not give me away. I'm not supposed to BE here remember?"

"Da?" Trunks asked, his hands held out.

Smirking Vegeta reached down and scooped up the boy. Trunks grabbed onto the slick surface of the armor, and then seized a handful of spandex. He almost pinched Vegeta's skin underneath with a viselike grip that further surprised the Prince. A smirk traced over Vegeta's features and he held Trunks on his hip quite easily. The tail flailed about, whipping in the breeze.

"You'd best learn this now," Vegeta said, guiding the tail and trying to get him to curl it around the tiny waist. Surprisingly Trunks did so after a bit of coaxing. Wearing the armor Bulma had forged for him, Vegeta glanced in through the windows. He carried Trunks low on his hip, hoping the motion of his body would keep the boy silent so Bulma would not wake. Obviously she must be asleep or she would have given Vegeta nine shades of HFIL by now to see him arriving after their argument. He crept towards the window to peer inside at Bulma's slumbering form. Indeed she was snoring for he could hear the rumbling with his Saiyan hearing through the afternoon air. Knowing her, she would sleep for hours making that sound.

He glanced down at the silent Trunks. On the small face was a neutral expression with furrowed brow. Vegeta held his son before him, shaking his head. "I suppose it won't harm to show you how to properly fly. And properly test your powers since you appear to be as far along as a Saiyan brat would be development wise."

Trunks grunted, thumping a fist against Vegeta's breastplate. Nodding to himself Vegeta stepped lightly through the sliding door. He levitated silently through the room towards the nursery. Grabbing a diaper bag he filled it with supplies. Then he hung it on his arm, taking Trunks in his other. Father and son levitated out of the open window, not making a sound. Blue ki crackled around Vegeta, levitating him up with Trunks held close to his armored chest.

"This won't take long," Vegeta mumbled. "You'll be back before your mother wakes. She need not know you flew around with me."

Far below, Yamcha sipped a glass of lemonade in the vast kitchen. Before him was a plate of cookies freshly baked. Half of them were reduced to crumbs. Grumbling he dabbed at the spit-up stain on his new jacket with a towel wet with club soda to his left. Bulma had taken a long time to come back, so he guessed she must have fallen asleep. Naturally Yamcha had helped himself to the fridge to wait and see if she would wake up before checking on her.

Ki flared in his sense, and he rushed out to see what was happening. He saw a dark shape pass between him and the sun, rising from Bulma's balcony. He sensed the ki flaring before it clamped down, and saw the blue aura encasing the figure. A frown twisted his features.

"What's he doing back here… it can't be him!" Yamcha grunted. Black hair upswept fluttered in the wind. A laugh echoed in Yamcha's ears from high above, and he saw Vegeta holding the baby Trunks in his arms, and a diaper bag in his left.

Vegeta glanced down at the figure he sensed and heard. A frown covered his face and he rose steadily upwards with Trunks clinging to him. "Damn, that loser just HAD to be here!"

"Where do you think you're going mister!" Yamcha shouted from below. He rocketed up, ki blazing around him. Dark eyes sizzled with challenge as Yamcha streaked towards the hovering Vegeta still near Bulma's balcony.

Vegeta shot back, "Mind your own business and leave me be!"

"I won't let you take the baby!" Yamcha shouted. He held his hands up, one of them flickering with a sphere of energy drawn from his very soul.

"You're insane! Can't I take my own son for a ride? Get out of my way unless you want to get hurt!" Vegeta raised one hand after transferring the diaper bag to the gloved hand holding Trunks against him. Blue ki crackled around the glove with powerful levels to match and tease Yamcha's attempt at an offense.

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	23. Eve of Destruction

**A Taste of Heat**

By Trynia Merin aka Starbearertm

**Eve of Destruction**

_Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z. I don't own Vegeta, Bulma or Baby Trunks sadly. Akira Toriyama does, and Funimation brings us these great cartoons! I wish I did, but I only can claim this story as a work of fan fiction from my overactive imagination. Don't sue me! I hope to present a 'realistic' portrayal of the struggle not only Vegeta but Bulma has with this whole change in relationship. If things seem OOC, then it's just my vain attempts to delve into their minds._

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"_Where do you think you're going mister!" Yamcha shouted from below. He rocketed up, ki blazing around him. Dark eyes sizzled with challenge as Yamcha streaked towards the hovering Vegeta still near Bulma's balcony._

_Vegeta shot back, "Mind your own business and leave me be!"_

"_I won't let you take the baby!" Yamcha shouted. He held his hands up, one of them flickering with a sphere of energy drawn from his very soul. _

"_You're a fool! What I do with my son is my affair! It's not for you to say!" Vegeta shouted back. Vegeta raised one hand after transferring the diaper bag to the gloved hand holding Trunks against him. Blue ki crackled around the glove with powerful levels to match and tease Yamcha's attempt at a defense. Holding Trunks tightly in his left arm he said, "I won't let you come between me and mine!"_

Angrily Yamcha hurled the spirit ball forwards. Vegeta's hand flashed up to block it. "What are you doing idiot? Do you want the woman's brat dead?"

"You… what do you think you're doing! You have no right!" Yamcha shouted.

"STOP!" screamed a voice from above. Standing on the balcony, Bulma's wide eyes were trained on Vegeta holding Trunks in his arms while fending off an energy blast from Yamcha hovering nearby.

"Bulma! Thank God you're here!" Yamcha cried.

"Vegeta, what the HELL are you doing?" Bulma demanded. "What are you doing here?"

"Taking the boy for a flight till this fool interfered and almost endangered him," Vegeta answered, still holding Trunks tightly to his body. The boy clung to him, opening his mouth to cry. Grumbling Vegeta rocked the child to shush him.

"I… this is crazy," Bulma stammered, clinging to the rail. "Bring him back here at once! Yamcha, go back in the house till I call you. You and me have to have a talk, Vegeta!"

"Fine, woman," Vegeta answered curtly, still holding Trunks.

"I can't believe you want to be alone with… HIM! How can you trust the baby with him after what he did?" Yamcha demanded.

"Because, the brat is my offspring perhaps? And I don't want him to grow up a coddled weakling like Kakkarot's brat?" Vegeta answered. He blurred out of sight, materializing between Bulma and the hovering Yamcha. Instantly he passed Trunks to Bulma's shaking arms.

"Thank you," Bulma said, hugging Trunks tightly to her.

"Dadadadad!" Trunks gurgled, reaching out towards Vegeta.

"I can't believe I'm seeing this," Yamcha mumbled.

"Get in the house NOW, mister! Or get out!" Bulma shouted at him. "And the same goes for you Vegeta, unless you explain yourself!"

"You do have some sense, Bulma," Vegeta said. "But as I recall, I was not welcome here?"

"Just please get in the room," Bulma sighed, shaking her head. "I'm too flustered to argue."

"I'll be downstairs if you need me, Bulma," Yamcha said. "Any sign of anything suspicious and I'm calling for help!"

"You try my patience, fool," Vegeta glared at him. He leapt over the rail of Bulma's balcony, and strode regally in through the open sliding door. Bulma held Trunks slung across her hip, then glared down to Yamcha. He landed on the patio out back, glancing anxiously up at her.

"Bulma?"

"Just wait for me in the living room. I think there's some food in the kitchen. Just don't' do anything stupid!" Bulma called down to him.

"I don't get it why are you letting him…"

"Because Trunks is his son too," Bulma answered. "And I want to know why you were firing energy blasts at him when he was holding my SON! My god you could have hit TRUNKS!"

"But I…"

"Save it!" Bulma called down. "Either go back in or leave NOW!"

"Whatever you say, Bulma. But it's for your sake I'm even here," Yamcha answered. His brow wrinkled, and he wandered back into the house with a last glance up. Bulma exhaled a deep breath in a puff of air. It fluffed her bangs up. Trunks tugged at the loose tendrils of her hair.

"Well, let's go talk to your father," she sighed, her head still spinning at the mental image of Vegeta holding Trunks protectively in one arm while fending off Yamcha's spirit ball attack. He actually was carrying a diaper bag along with the baby as if he was taking the boy for a trip.

By the time she entered, Vegeta stood with his arms folded over his chest. He leaned his back against the wall close to the baby's nursery, watching Bulma with wary dark eyes. They held a guarded expression that hovered between annoyance and nervousness. "So, you got rid of the weakling?"

"Vegeta, what were you doing here?" asked Bulma matter of fact. Her stomach twisted with anger while her heart leapt with joy to see him again. In fact she had missed him.

"I will tell you, woman, when you explain to my why you said those things you did when last we parted," Vegeta countered. "Do you think I'm an idiot?"

"Where were you taking trunks?"

"On a flight. To test the limits of his powers. Something all Saiyan males go through at his age," said Vegeta matter of fact. "I don't want the boy growing up coddled and weak."

"You should have asked my permission, then, or given me SOME notice! What if Yamcha had hit Trunks in your spat?" Bulma yelled at him.

"UAAAHHH!" Trunks yowled, squirming in her arms.

"I think the boy needs changing," Vegeta pointed to him.

"Don't change the subject, mister!" Bulma snapped.

"If you won't do it to shut him up, I will, woman! I detest that noise!" Vegeta growled, rushing over and grabbing Trunks from her arms. Angrily he marched the boy into the nursery and set him down on the changing table. Bulma blinked to see Vegeta fumbling with the fastenings on the onesie. Still he wore his white gloves while snatching a diaper and wipes.

"What are you doing…"

"What does it look like?" he growled back, rapidly removing the soiled diaper and raising the boy by his ankles so he could slip a fresh one under. Powder flew and wipes were crunched into the soiled mess. Soon Trunks had stopped bawling, and lay quietly there looking around Vegeta's waist at his annoyed mother.

"Thank you," Bulma said warily. She rubbed a hand over her face, still trying to make sense of what was going on. While she had to remind herself to be angry, part of her was tired trying to remember why they had argued in the first place. Suddenly a flash of blue ki flared in the room when Vegeta disintegrated the diaper into nothingness.

"Saves disposal, boy. Mind and learn," Vegeta said quietly. He lifted Trunks up and set him so the boy was slung over his narrow hip and could sit up with one gloved hand supporting his bottom. The furry brown tail curled around his little waist and Trunks blinked at his exhausted mother. Vegeta carried Trunks towards the crib, saying nothing but calmly rocking the boy as he strode with ramrod straight posture.

Bulma followed him, wondering if she was dreaming and was seconds from waking alone. Once Vegeta had settled Trunks on his back, he turned around to look at Bulma. "Well, what is it you wish to say to me, woman?" he grunted.

"Let's go into the bedroom," she said.

"Strange request coming from you, considering the circumstances," Vegeta said, his eyes flashing with some anger. Yet he kept it under wraps with surprising control which worried and astonished Bulma. Every muscle was tensed as if ready to spring into action, yet the Prince did not appear to be on the verge of blowing his top.

"This way," she mumbled, motioning to him. As he had so many months before he silently followed her into the master suite. Bulma sat down on the sofa near her television, while Vegeta moved around to sit a foot apart beside her.

"Why did you piss me off like that, Bulma? What did you hope to accomplish with that mind fuck I ask you, eh?" Vegeta asked, his voice cold. Bulma shivered, drawing her wrapper around her body.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said.

"You thought yourself clever by playing on my sense of pride. For what purpose was it, Bulma? To keep me from seeing my son? By forcing me away from my duty? It almost worked if not for one thing you forgot," Vegeta answered.

Bulma swallowed hard, her eyes averted. A flush game to her guilty face, and she hugged herself tightly. "You'll thank me later Vegeta. Sooner or later you'd blame the boy and me if you weren't strong enough to fight the Androids. I simply did what you would have done."

"Is that what you think of me, Bulma? Do you think so little of me and yourself that I would blame a defenseless brat who is my heir for failure? For what is my responsibility?" Vegeta asked, raising a brow.

"I… Vegeta, it can't work," she said quietly. "I can just see you. I felt the struggle through our rapport, and I could just see you hating me if…"

"If anything I should blame you for playing games with me, when I require honesty. I've been nothing but truthful with you woman," Vegeta said, his face suddenly serious without any sign of a scowl. Just why he was not erupting at her was some reason Bulma could not fathom. Any rapport between them was nonexistent.

"Vegeta please," she said.

"Bulma, I had hoped you would give me the same courtesy. But you have deceived me, and yourself," Vegeta interrupted. He leaned forward and scooted so there was only six inches between them.

"I don't know what to say, Vegeta," Bulma answered. Her jaw wobbled at the truth that Vegeta had discovered for himself. All her carefully knit excuses unraveled with the earnest look in his dark eyes. Now he revealed the hurt in them.

"Tell me why, woman. I deserve an explanation. I have been patient long enough now that my anger has cooled and reason has prevailed," Vegeta said. Dark eyes fixed into hers, and Bulma could not escape their intensity.

"I'm sorry," Bulma finally said. Her throat caught with the words. "I just was scared, all right?"

"Scared of what? The androids?"

"Scared that you would leave me and Trunks when we needed you most," she answered. Blue eyes stared at him with dark circles under them. He could tell by the thinness of her body that she had not been eating properly and guessed she had not slept well in all the time he had been gone.

"So you drove me away eh, woman? Was that your plan? To make me hate you as I hate everything else about this world?" Vegeta laughed softly. "A pity for you it backfired."

"I'm surprised you're even here after what I said," Bulma answered.

"As I said before you think so little of me and yourself. Did you not understand when I said I must appear cold and aloof when in public? That does not mean that I will not protect you and the brat when your lives are in danger," Vegeta answered.

"You told me that your protection was withdrawn!" she answered.

"What would you expect me to say when you hurt my pride, Bulma?" he snorted, swinging to face her completely. "What I meant was that if you deliberately put yourself and the boy in danger it would be your fault if he came to harm. I cannot protect you and fight to my fullest potential if you act foolishly!"

"You see! You admit it!" she answered.

"You are just as stubborn and frustrating as I," he growled softly. "Or are you thinking of the time when I endangered you… when I almost strangled you and almost caused the boy harm? Is that why you're driving me away? Are you punishing me for that?"

"Yes…" she nodded. "I'm scared that something will happen and you'll snap, and…"

"I see," Vegeta nodded slowly. "In that case your fear is justified Bulma. I am dangerous and I can be a 'monster'. But you don't get that when it comes to defending my bloodline, I would die before I let my heir be snuffed out."

"Would you really?" she asked, trembling under his open gaze.

"Having an offspring around does indeed change one's perception of reality. Something I did not see till the clown Kakkarot opened my eyes," said Vegeta, closing the gap between them.

"What?"

"He said that it takes a true man to be a father," said Vegeta. "Regardless of my feelings for you, I will not abandon my son to a monster like Freiza. I'd rather die myself then let him become what I am."

Bulma's heart somersaulted at this. Pressing her hands to her face she swallowed hard. She closed the remaining distance, pressing her hands to his shoulders. "What did you say?"

"Must I repeat myself?" he asked with annoyance wrinkling his brow. "I cannot let the boy grow up without a future. Why do you think I was so angry when you drove me out? If I should die gloriously in battle, there must be another to take up my fight. That is what a prince can give to his son. My last legacy to the royal line of Vegetasei. And I'd like to think that you would be there to defend him when I cannot."

"Vegeta, I'm truly sorry," Bulma answered, choking hard in her throat. She threw her arms around his neck, and buried her face in his shoulder.

"Does this mean that I am allowed to see him before those tin cans arrive? Because once they surface, I will devote all my time to wiping them out. This is the calm before the storm. What little memories I can give him he deserves to know his true Saiyan heritage," said Vegeta.

"I… oh damn," she whispered. Vegeta slid his arms around her shaking body, letting her cling to him.

"I have forgiveness for your foolish ways, Bulma. Because you cannot comprehend some things that I can. But do not try my patience like that again. I don't want our last days to be filled with enmity. Let the boy remember me with pride, not with distaste. That is my gift to him," Vegeta answered.

"Forgive me Vegeta," she pleaded, hugging him tightly as if he would evaporate. Vegeta reached over and pulled her so she would sit in his lap. Bulma let him wrap her in protective hard arms, simply shushing her as he did so long ago.

"They come in just a month," Vegeta whispered to her.

"There's no time left, I'm such a fool," Bulma swallowed hard. "If you die… Ill never forgive you!"

"That is why you must be strong. Why I must hide my emotions. I have to trust that you will do your duty on the home front, as I will on the battlefield. As a true mate of the Prince would. Ruling her domain in my stead for the war ahead," Vegeta answered. Warmth that she had missed surged through them as Vegeta powered up his ki. Bulma felt him cup her cheeks. He pulled her leg so it twisted to one side then turned her in his lap so she straddled his legs.

"Let me give you something to remember me by," Bulma answered, searching for forgiveness in his eyes. Vegeta raised gloved hands to cup her face. Bulma lay her hands atop his, feeling his lips brush over with the encroaching of his face up to hers. The pressure of his mouth dominating hers followed a gentle heartfelt kiss. He slid one gloved hand down her back to caress and knead her buttocks while the other twined into her hair at the nape of her neck.

Vegeta's tongue slid against hers, caressing it as his hot breath surged into her mouth. Under her pelvis she felt a hard lump forming with greater density then his marvelous muscles. In his training they had grown in such density that every bit of his frame was packed with power. He removed his hand from her bottom, and grabbed one of her hands in his hair. Then he positioned it on one of the wide segmented straps that held his armor together.

"Remove this, woman. It's in my way," he grated, throat rough with desire. Bulma fiddled with the straps, hands shaking. Vegeta watched her with passionate eyes hooded by his dark lashes. At the same time he grasped the tie of her wrapper. Simultaneously his armor was unlatched so it detached into two pieces as her robe fell apart. He lifted his arms so she could pull the vest up and off. With a thud it hit the carpet. His gloved hands captured her breasts veiled by the thin silk of her nightgown. Vegeta deposited kiss after kiss along her chin, then her throat. She arched her back, rocking her hips against his groin growing ever harder.

Next to go was Vegeta's shirt. She slid her fingertips under the hem and he again raised his arms so she could peel it up and off. Then he grabbed the hem of her nightie to drag it up. Bulma's white arms crossed before her face, and then the light cloth joined Vegeta's battle dress accumulating on the floor. Silk puddled with hard armor. Such a contrast. Through his white gloves his ki flared over her bared skin. Moisture from her arousal soaked through her boy shorts lacey panties to the fabric of his pants. Vegeta parted his legs then grunted. One breast was cupped in either gloved hand, the thumbs of his gloves tweaking at the hardening nipples. They studded out so he could lower his mouth to capture one.

"Vegeta," she purred, feeling him suckle one then the other. Neither was neglected for long.

"Move back, Bulma," he hoarsely grated. She slid back so he could grab his pants and lift his pelvis to remove them. He did not want to lose contact with her while getting them off.

"Let me," she urged, climbing off his lap. He mumbled his protest at the loss of her warm body, but knew in a few moments it would be worth it. Bulma slid to the floor and pulled one of his boots to tug it off. She fell backwards with a white boot in her grasp. Vegeta could not help laugh at how silly she looked breasts heaving and her face wrinkled into a giggle of her own.

The other boot soon joined its mate. Now Bulma sat on his lap once more, letting Vegeta knead and suckle her breasts to his heart's content. At the same time she massaged his arms. Vegeta felt as if he would burst if he did not sate his desire. So he leaned to the side, while taking Bulma down with him. She landed with a thump atop his chest, legs tangled in his.

"Hey!" she gasped.

"I want to mate with you, Bulma," he growled. Her underwear was ripped away, and she barely had the chance to breathe before he tugged her down for a kiss. Grunting, Bulma nestled him between her spread thighs. Handfuls of his dark hair passed through her fingers while she devoured his hot kiss. Up and down her spine his gloved hands migrated, squeezing her buttocks so he could press her hips into his.

He had cracked open the barrier between them the slightest bit. Passion oozed through in first a trickle, then a steady flood. Feeling him twitch, Bulma instinctively raised her hips. Vegeta's gloved hands lifted her up, then pulled her down around him. Bulma felt their bodies become one. She pressed flat palms to his chest for leverage, breasts heaving in small urgent pants.

"You don't want to play?" she pouted.

"I need you, now, Bulma," Vegeta purred deeply. Aching with need she wriggled her hips. It wasn't long before he welcomed the tight grip of her muscles caressing him.

"I missed that," she purred, leaning down to nip his chin, then his ear. Vegeta remained perfectly still, lips in a mischievous smirk. He knew Bulma wanted him to madly take her so he waited to see what she would do.

"Mmm, feels so good," she sighed, laying down across him and spreading her legs to encompass his hips. Vegeta grunted in surprise to feel her laying comfortably atop his chest, breasts pressing tightly and squashed between them. Instead of fighting, Bulma lazily shifted up and slid her tongue into his mouth. Like eating fine chocolate she took her time exploring the taste she had missed for a month at least.

Vegeta lost his urge to tease her. Instead he seized her and moved his lips across hers with the motions that both wanted their pelvises to make. Slowly he began to make love, waiting to see what she would do. Bulma gasped in shock, almost losing her liplock with him. Vegeta twisted his body around, then sent them tumbling on the floor with Bulma under him. Fortunately they landed on their sides before Vegeta rolled her under him. Bulma moaned with pleasure.

"Now, no more playing," he chided her. Both hands braced on either side of her shoulders so Vegeta could mate with her. Bulma laced her ankles together just at the base of his spine. Her feet accidentally pressed the stump of his tail, causing Vegeta to snarl with pleasure. Bulma embraced him with her thighs and her arms reaching up to grip his shoulders. Soft moans and cries filled his ears, and she was carried away. Especially when he lifted her hips and sent a soothing crackle to cover every inch of her skin. Wildly she clutched him, every muscle firing with clenching blue pleasure. The ki surged her with heat, covering her body in a cloak of his energy to protect her as Vegeta's instinct overrode reason.

Hours later she lay on top of his body. Somehow he had moved them to the bed. Bulma felt as if they fitted perfectly together. She lazily caressed the scars on his chest with one finger as the Prince dozed. Oddly she felt her heart thudding at the same pace as his mighty one. Quietly she murmured, "I love you."

Her only answer was a faint snore. Yet Vegeta's arms tightened around her to hold her fast. "Woman," he mumbled, binding her to him so she couldn't escape. Her last doubts melted, and she relaxed atop him. She would not worry about tomorrow. Just focus on the warmth he could give her before he was taken from her by the lust of battle. A greater purpose existed, and now she knew her reasons to run from him were just monsters like the Androids.

Just outside the curtains something hovered. Yamcha slowly nodded, and watched the two slumbering from the balcony. He released a sigh, and then rocketed off towards his own training. There was much he had to catch up on.

"Be happy Bulma and Vegeta," he whispered. "Because there might not be a tomorrow."


End file.
